Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 147673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Hound’s bark tore through the air, as if he were about to jump the intruder and sink his teeth into the charred skin.
"I guess he must have had some love for you, but we also know he was as dumb as a rock if he chose going back to his world over a cozy spot on my dick. Especially if you consider that his loyalty to you won’t save you anyway.” King’s grin widened when he looked up to the landing above him where a creature looking like a genderless giant dipped in tar took a step down. “This is why, Beast! The devil needs me. He will do right by me, so none of your bullets can touch me. I have infernal protection!”
“Really?” hissed Beast, forcing himself two more steps up. He was surprised that the malevolent being that watched them both from above instilled no fear in him. It just watched Beast and King with calm interest, as if it were a scientist and they—two rats in a cage. “Give me your gun then, and we will see.”
King once more looked back at the creature that had eyes so hot they seemed white. “Why not?” He pulled his Magnum out of the holster and threw the gun down the stairs. It landed three steps above Beast, barrel aiming at Beast’s head. “You’ve got…” he glanced at his watch. “I don’t know. Thirty seconds?”
It was like having a noose finally put around Beast’s neck. Had he not seen or heard the large standing clock ticking away loudly?
It synced in with his heart, and as he dashed forward to grab the gun, each beat inside his chest sounded like a number.
14.
13.
He grabbed the gun, pulled off the safety and shot.
King’s body recoiled, and he gave a loud laugh, leaning against the railing, which shifted slightly beneath his weight. Red spread at the front of his white T-shirt, and in the faint light, with the wind tousling his hair and clothes, the blood soaking through the fabric made it look as if something was trying to crawl its way out of King’s body.
King’s laughter was gone as if it never resounded within the walls, and he rushed a few steps up the stairs in panic, passing the dark, horned creature. “You need me!” he yelled. “Protect me!”
10.
9.
Beast was losing all energy, and when he tried to shoot again, his grip on the Magnum faltered, and it dropped to the stairs. “Get him!” he urged Hound, and it was all the dog needed to act.
King’s eyes went wide, and he reached to the back of his pants where he always kept a knife, but Hound’s heavy bulk flew up the stairs, as if it weighed nothing, and crashed into King. The impact sent them both stumbling at the wonky railing. The sickening creak of breaking wood had Beast running, and in the bright light of the storm he saw the back of King’s head meeting the hard step on the other side of the space in the middle of the spiraling staircase. Beast had his arms around the thick, furry form of his pet, holding on even as its weight pulled on his spine, but King fell, leaving behind a smear of blood and some hair on the edge of the step.
Beast yanked Hound back into safety, but his father’s broken scream echoed in the staircase as if it were an empty cave at the entrance to hell. A sickening sound that was a crack and a splash at once was followed by the loud smash of breaking wood, although Beast’s mind suggested split bones and mangled flesh. And then, nothing.
Hound whimpered, pulling free of the embrace and wiggling his tail so rapidly the movement made his whole body seem erratic, but Beast paid him no mind and moved back to the void left behind by the broken railing.
He looked down, and in the circular emptiness in the middle of the staircase he saw King draped over the gargoyle statue like a puppet whose strings had been cut. One of the statue’s wings was down, and King’s new expensive T-shirt was torn. Bright red slowly deemed the graphics at the front unreadable between the twin horns of the statue that now emerged from King’s chest.
When the clock behind him struck midnight, its low bell resounding through the air time after time, Beast’s body started burning. Still looking down, all the way to the bottom of the stairs, he sensed his joints stop creaking, his muscles feeling more confident by the minute. The broken shape three stories down was slowly secreting blood all over the white floor, and the moment the clock stopped chiming, Beast’s mind became razor sharp.
He was elated.
He got to his feet as if it cost him no energy at all.