“Let. Me. Go.”
The specter merely chuckled again, and my frantic fingers gripped at the ground, finding nothing but blades of grass that snapped in half easily. I attempted to roll onto my stomach, digging my fingers into the dry earth, trying to find purchase, only to scrub my fingertips raw.
He paused by the sack of treasure I’d dropped and knelt beside it, his grip still tight around my ankle, I thought he would grab the entire thing and bring it along, but he rummaged around inside it with his free hand and retrieved the necklace I’d ripped out of the stone tomb. He slipped it inside his cloak and stood again, dragging me along without missing a beat.
I screamed, the shrill noise racing out across the empty graveyard, even though I knew no one would hear me.
Even if they did, what would they do? Fight him? The thought was laughable. He killed Mark in the blink of an eye, removing his spine entirely. Would knives or guns have any effect on this thing?
Was he even alive?
Judging by the pale, blue-tinted flesh of his fingers wrapped around my ankle and the fleshless talking skull head, I guessed not. This beast was as dead as Mark was, only somehow he could still walk and talk.
He was as dead as I would be shortly, after he made me suffer whatever horrible consequences he had in store for me.
The thought of potential torture renewed my fight, and I grabbed at a passing headstone in an attempt to slow the creature down. My fingers gripped the edge of the faded stone, knuckles pale white from my desperate grip, but it only stalled the monster for a moment. He yanked my ankle hard one good time, causing pain to shoot up my calf, and my grip slipped free, leaving several layers of skin from my fingertips behind.
“Fuck,” I growled through gritted teeth, wincing against the pain.
“You’re feisty,” the beast said without looking back over his shoulder. His sights were set on the mausoleum, his slow, steady footsteps leading us closer and closer to the entrance.
Was he going to bury me inside the tomb I’d disturbed and leave me there to die? Was he going to shut me inside the mausoleum and enjoy it as I slowly ran out of oxygen?
I had no idea what he was planning, but I didn’t want to find out.
“Please,” I begged a final time, hating the desperation in my voice. “Let me go.”
Finally, he stopped and craned his neck around to stare down at me with his emotionless gaze. Every time I looked into the empty sockets where his eyes should be, it sent a wave of discomfort through me. It was so unordinary, sowrong, but all I could do was stare.
“Little thief, if there is one thing I can assure you, it’s that I’mneverletting you go.”
He waved his hand in front of him, producing a tear in the air. It started as a thin, black rip that widened into a portal wide enough for him to pass through.Forusto pass through.
Wherever the hell he was headed, he was taking me with him.
Rolling onto my side, I was able to catch a better glimpse of Hell–or what I expected to be a fiery world of damnation–but what I found surprised me. Sleek, black walls, adorned with glittering silver fixtures. Gothic archways and glossy floors.
My brow furrowed as I tried to take it in, but then the monster was marching forward once more, dragging me toward the portal he’d conjured.
Fuck.
I craned my neck to look at the graveyard a final time, my bag full of treasures discarded amongst the headstones, Mark’s headless body a crumpled heap in the distance. In a matter of minutes, every shred of my reality had been torn apart, the tattered strings of it drifting away out of my reach as I slipped through the portal. It closed behind us without a sound.
The specter moved silently down a hallway, his feet clacking methodically against the tile floor as he continued to drag me behind him like a sack of dirty laundry.
The first thing I was immediately certain of: this place was grand. More extravagant than anything I’d ever seen. Were there manors in Hell? Castles? Chandeliers composed entirely of bones hung interspersed overhead, lit with dim light that barely penetrated the dark hallway.
Elegant doorways were spaced evenly along both walls, adorned with glossy black trim and silver door knockers. It was everything you’d expect an elegant, creepy mansion to have.
The second thing I realized was that marble being drug across my back hurt a hell of a lot more than the grass had, and my skin felt like it was being ripped apart as the monster mopped the floor with me. I reached for the hem of my shirt, trying to pull it down to cover my exposed skin, but it was nearly impossible.
“Let me go! I’ll scream!”
“Then scream,” he rumbled in his Hell-deep baritone. “Only the dead will hear you, and trust when I tell you, no corpse will dare oppose me. Certainly not for some grimy little grave thief.”
With a huff, I thrashed about to jerk my ankle–which ached intensely in his iron-clad grip–away from him, but his fingers tightened against my skin. I whimpered, a pitiful sound that I immediately regretted, and the monster laughed.
“Keep struggling and I’ll drag you by your hair instead.” It wasn’t a threat, but a promise–one I fully expected him to keep.
