All the while, my living room is bathed in his terrifying, haunting laughter. Okay, maybebathedisn’t the right word, but I’m using it because this is a god-damn blood bath.
I duck back down and sit with my head buried between my knees, breathing deeply. Each wet thud and splattering sound has me flinching, waiting to be struck by a wayward organ or something. There’s the unmistakable sound of teeth crunching through something hard, followed by a swallow, and—Jesus Christ, he’s eating them.
I try to swallow down the bile threatening to escape, using both hands to grip my hair until just this side of painful, trying to keep myself centered.I have to get out of here.For a single moment, I’m thinking clearly. I don’t want to leave the cops behind; it feels like the cowardly thing to do.
But what else could I possibly do? They’redead,and I’m not, and I’d really like to keep it that way. He may have said he can’t hurt me, but who knows how long that’ll last.I have to go find help.
As quietly as I can, I crawl to the wall near my demolished front door, avoiding the puddles and paintings of red scattered throughout the room. Flattening myself against it, ignoring the squelch and crunch of my newfriend’ssnack, I slowly scootch towards the door.
I consider closing my eyes so I don’t have to hearandsee the horror, but I need to avoid the blood. I’ve only got my socks on, and if I step in any, I’ll lose my shit, and my puke will be added to the gruesome artistry.
Every second of this is torture, moving as quickly and quietly as I can. Each little scoot is accompanied by the sound of blood dripping from the ceiling and the quiet groans of someone enjoying their first meal in avery longtime. The only thing I don’t hear is the sound of dying men, so at least it was over quickly, I guess. Idly I wonder how much this giant monster can eat at one time, then decide I’d rather not find out.
I’ve almost made it. Just a few more steps and I’ll be out in the hall. Once I’m in the hall, I can run. Where the fuck am I supposed to run to? It doesn’t matter, I can figure that out in a few seconds once I’m outside the do—*thud*something hits the wall and slides down to the floor inches from my head, and I squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t have to watch my death coming.
“I asked you to pardon me for a moment. You do not want to tempt the hunter inside me again,Miss Hart,”he says my name like it’s some inside joke between him and his banquet. “As you can see, it will not end well for those around you. I am almost finished, then we can resume our discussion.” Looking down, I see a foot still inside its boot on the ground. My gaze travels from its spot up the trail of blood to where it had first struck the wall.
I look to where he’s standing, thankfully empty-handed for the moment, “You almost hit me with that,” I say indignantly. I cannot believe that’s the part of this I’m choosing to complain about, but it’s the only thing I can think of without collapsing.
At that, he gives me a cruel smirk, mouth dripping red, “I have impeccable aim. Notice you do not even have so much as a spot of their filthy blood on you.” I don’t believe him for a second. I give myself a thorough once-over, and he’s right. Not a single drop.Huh.
“Th-th-there’s going to be more coming, you know,” I warn him, hoping that’s incentive enough for him to get the fuck out of here.
“More?” his eyes light up as he licks his fingers.This sick fuck really isn’t full yet?
“Yes. More cops. But you can’t eat them all. When, um, these ones,” I vaguely gesture around the room, “don’t check in with their higher-ups, a lot fucking more will show up. They’ll have bigger weapons and—”
“Why do you use such language?” he interrupts me.
“Excuse me?”
“Your vulgarity is off-putting and indecent.”Is this guy for real?
“You just slaughtered a trio of police, but the wordfuckis where you draw the line?” I honestly cannot believe what I’m hearing right now. This asshole has blood and sinew clinging to the tips of his claws, and he thinks he gets to have an opinion about my language?
“It is unbecoming of a lady to use such words,” he says as if it’s obvious.
“It isunbecomingof a demon to crunch his way through all the people in someones fucking living room.” The grin he shoots my way seems almost giddy, like it’s all so fucking funny that he’s killed three people in a matter of minutes.
“Forgive me,” he begs with barely contained humor, “It’s been centuries since I’ve fed and they did offer themselves up by trying to shoot us.”Us?
“First of all, they were shooting at you. Second—”
“They did not even attempt to avoid hitting you. In fact, had I not stepped in the way, you’d have a hole through your body, right here,” he points at his rib cage, protruding slightly as he breathes.
“Secondly,” I ignore him, “My neighbors probably heard everything and you’ve left a crime scene in my home. I’m going to be arrested for this.” My voice raises with every word as I realize the ramifications of what he’s done.
He freezes, “No one would ever believe you did this, don’t be ridiculous.” He justifies, “How could they possibly think someone so small and harmless could be responsible for this… carnage?”Now that’s a fitting word for this.
“You believed not five minutes ago that Islaughtered a virgin,” I argue.Why am I fighting with him?
“That was before I saw how innocuous you are. No one will think a little half naked woman did this,” he laughs.
“Who is going to believe that ademonbroke into my home and killed them? Areyougoing to stick around and explain it to them?”
“No. I will simply clean up the mess. I am not uncivilized,” he states with such conviction that I can’t help myself anymore. I start to laugh. Full belly laughs that nearly have me on my knees.
“I am not uncivilized.”My attempt to mock his old-timey accent falls flat between my cackles.
