Diablon Series Spinoff: Interbred
Autorzy
G. M. Marks
Lektury
139K
Rozdziały
36
In a world where monstrous creatures called Diablons roam the forests, Carolyn's life is turned upside down when her home is attacked. Fleeing into the woods, she encounters Ash, a fearsome Diablon who captures her. As Carolyn struggles to survive and understand her captor, she discovers unsettling truths about herself and the world around her. Their journey together is fraught with danger, mystery, and an unexpected bond that challenges everything Carolyn thought she knew.
The Attack
“Shut the windows, quick!”
Carolyn raced around their little home, slamming down shutters and pulling closed curtains.
“Double bolt the doors! Turn off the lights.”
Together, Carolyn and her sister pushed the front door’s heavy lock into place. Their mother sat on the couch, looking very small as she huddled in her quilt.
“Douse the fire,” she said.
Carolyn sighed. It was freezing. “Can’t we…?”
“No. There can’t be any signs of life, lest we attract the monsters.”
“There hasn’t been a disappearance in over a year, Mama. Whatever was here is gone. Or maybe even dead,” Carolyn said, as she doused the flames. Darkness fell, all except for one flickering candle. Moonlight turned the curtains white.
“You can’t know that for sure,” their mother said wisely. “We must be careful.”
“There’s no point to being careful if we freeze to death,” Carolyn grumbled.
Carolyn’s breath came out in a mist. Belinda’s eyes glittered against the candlelight. Their mother’s dark figure rose from the couch. The floorboards creaked beneath her footsteps.
The two sisters followed her into the bedroom. Together, they slept, bunched up close, keeping warm, keeping safe. Hearing each other’s breaths. Every night it had been like this. Every night for the past three years.
Ever since the disappearances. Ever since the pile of human bones found deep within the trees. Ever since the rumors of a monster that could tear a human being apart.
Carolyn shivered. But it had been three years. Three years and she was freezing!
Carolyn turned onto her back with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. Belinda was shivering against her. Her mother was curled up in a ball.
Carolyn was not going to fall asleep. It was an exceptionally cold night. The coldest she’d known in years.
She rolled over, gazing at the doorway leading into the living room and the fireplace. Several heartbeats later, she sat up.
Belinda stirred. “Where are you going?”
Carolyn just shook her head. Climbing from the mattress, she stumbled in the dark. The candle had flared out but the moonlight beaming through the curtains was enough to see by—just.
The floorboards creaked. She paused to look over her shoulder, but her mother didn’t wake.
“Carolyn!” Belinda hissed.
Carolyn ignored her. Grabbing up her tinder box, she knelt before the warm coals. Within minutes, she had another little fire stoked up.
Carolyn groaned as warmth beat against her front. She looked over with a start at a creak—but it was only Belinda. Her sister’s eyes were wide, but she nestled down beside Carolyn and held out her hands too. Her fingertips were white.
“Oh God,” she groaned. “What in heaven could feel this good?”
Light from the fire flashed across the room. It flickered against the windows. It shone against the gold streaks in her sister’s plaits. They both turned at the sound of the sheep bleating in the barn.
Carolyn turned back to the fire with a frown. The back of her neck prickled. Myths and legends and rumors were hard to shake deep in the middle of a cold, miserable night.
She thought about that pile of bones with a shiver. She’d had nightmares—they all had. Of big lurking figures. Of outstretched claws and fangs the size of fingers. Growling. Snarling. Roaring.
She’d never heard it. She’d never seen it. Her imagination was enough. They both turned again when there came more bleating. There followed thudding, as though the sheep were barging the door. As though trying to get out.
“They’re scared of something,” Belinda squeaked.
Carolyn’s neck ached as she continued to stare over her shoulder, listening, seeing nothing in the darkness. Her long, dark bangs tickled her nose.
Belinda ducked with a squawk when a shadow passed across the moonlight. Something big. Something fast.
Ice flooded Carolyn’s veins.
“Put out the flames,” Belinda hissed.
Carolyn tossed the bucket of dirt on top. Blackness descended. Even the moonlight seemed dim. Belinda grabbed onto Carolyn as they both stared at the window, waiting, hoping.
The shadow passed again, and this time Belinda leapt to her feet, scrambling back into their mother’s room. Carolyn heard her mother’s surprised yelp.
She twisted around at the sound of something at the back door. Something that made the door shudder in its frame. Carolyn couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. The ringing in her ears drowned out the screaming of her mother and sister.
Vaguely, she saw them. Their hands were upon her. They were shouting in her ear. A small, cold hand took hers and dragged her to the front door, just as the rear door burst open.
More than burst open, it snapped free from its hinges and slammed into the opposite wall. She barely heard that either, muffled by the blood roaring in her ears.
A huge, dark figure stooped beneath the doorframe. It filled the doorway. A figure bigger than the biggest man she’d ever seen.
Her heart lurched, her belly swooped, as she was dragged staggering through the front door. The cold air hit her in the face like a brick.
“Carol! Run!” Belinda screamed.
Their mother was right beside them as they sprinted toward the road, but their mother was slow and small and was holding the two sisters back.
Carolyn grabbed her arm, steadying her before she could fall, keeping her footsteps in pace with hers. The breath rattled in her mother’s chest.
The freezing grass of their little field crackled beneath their slippered feet. It was so icy she could feel the cold of it deep in her ankle bones.
Her little sister was up ahead, pulling farther and farther away. Carolyn glanced over her shoulder but could see nothing chasing them.
Then she heard it—an animal-like roar that made the hair on her arms stand upright. She could hear her mother crying as she tried to keep up.
“Leave me,” she gasped. “Leave me to the monster.”
“No! This is my fault.”
Her mother staggered. Carolyn tried to grab her, but she collapsed to her knees.
“Mama!”
She wouldn’t get up, couldn’t get up, quietly sobbing, her skin white in the moonlight. She was shivering violently.
Carolyn looked around, but her sister had disappeared—thankfully. Where was the monster?
Her heart thrashed in her chest as she spun around, scanning the darkness. Their little farmhouse seemed so small and vulnerable. She could hear bleating and banging from the sheep shed.
Their nearest neighbor was miles distant. The road was still several minutes of hard running away. And what then?
How would the road protect them? There were no carriages or wagons at this time of night. Not that anyone would bother helping three distressed farm women babbling about monsters in the dark.
“Carol!” echoed Belinda’s voice from somewhere up ahead.
Why was she calling her? Shut up!
“CAROL!”
“Shut up!” Carolyn yelled back. “Run! Go!”
Her mother yelped, grabbing onto Carolyn’s arm at another dreadful roar. It was coming from their house. The monster was still there.
The sheep started screaming.
“Come on, Mama,” Carolyn hissed, dragging her to her feet.
Her mother scrambled behind her but only managed a short distance before stumbling again.
“I can’t. I can’t,” she gasped, bending over as she struggled to catch her breath. Her woolen nightdress couldn’t keep the ice at bay; her gasping breaths came out in a mist; her lips were white. She’d lost one of her slippers.
“God,” her mother croaked. “Go! Go to your sister. She needs you!”
Carolyn glanced over her shoulder.
“Go! You fool. Go!” She shoved Carolyn weakly before collapsing to the ground a second time.
Carolyn stepped back at the sound of another terrible roar. It was so loud, so deep it seemed to make the air vibrate. There was loud banging.
It sounded like it was pulverizing the walls, ripping up the floorboards. Breaking anything it could. Like an animal. Like the monster it clearly was. It was angry. It was looking for them.
“Mama. I love you,” she croaked.
“Go!”
