Pound of Flesh: Wrath & Vengeance Series Book 1

Chapter 5

The videos played on an endless loop. Static periodically washed across the screen of the old, clunky television set, but the sound was perfect. They had apparently rigged the room for the singular purpose of blasting the bloodied screams, pleas, and feeble babbling of the women. Their victims. And they had succeeded. Evelyn longed to cup her hands over her ears, make some attempt to dampen the ear-splitting noise, but she didn't dare move.

The noise crawled over the inside of her skull like a swarm of insects, burrowing into her brain to keep her from latching onto any constructive thought. She knew what she had to do. Think it over. Break it into tasks. Have a plan.

The lingering traces of electricity had already left her body. Knowing that didn’t stop her hands from twitching. Each time they did, a fresh wave of fear crashed down upon her. Stay still. Don't draw that thing’s attention.

That panicked thought made the pecking order clear. The monster that had slithered from the ceiling had beat out the serial killers. It had long since dragged itself out of her limited line of sight and escaped into the shadows.

Gathering every last ounce of her reckless bravery, she shifted her gaze. Only the flickering light of the TV pushed back against the endless pool of shadows. Pain pulsed in her eyeballs as she strained to look at every inch of the ceiling. The unfinished surface of the concrete slab offered hiding places for the darkness to remain. It tricked her more than once into thinking that she had spotted the monster, and her heart stammered every time. But there was nothing.

There was no comfort in that. The wound on the back of her head ground against the bars of the cage as she pushed her head back. Not secure enough to get up just yet but desperate to catch sight of the monster again. It was real. She hurled the thought to the universe at large. A demand rather than a plea. It was real. It had to be. The other option was too horrific to consider. Not now. It can’t start now.

Evelyn had learned about the giant, genetic clock ticking against her that said her mother had abducted her. Her mother had ranted that they were being hunted. That demons were snatching people and replacing them with fakes. But ‘Mommy can see them’. Evelyn shuddered as she recalled the statements that were repeated over and over again. She knew what they were doing. She wasn’t going to let them get her daughter.

The psychotic episode hadn’t lasted, but it had done enough. From then on, Evelyn knew her parents were lying when they told her, ‘mommy’s just not feeling well. She’ll get better soon’. It wasn’t the flu or some random bug. There was a wound in her mother’s brain, or something psychic that would never fully heal. Years of soul training tests and medicinal cocktails, therapists, and crushing, accumulating debt; it had all boiled down to endurance. The three of them had lived on a tightrope, trying to be happy while knowing that a gentle breeze could ruin it all. There was no cure. And Evelyn was her mother’s child. They had the same wild hair, dark eyes, and full lips. They shared a taste for spicy food and both had double jointed fingers. It wasn’t out of the question that these similarities weren’t the complete inventory of what she had inherited.

Despite this, she had hoped for a few more good years. Her mother hadn’t shown any warning signs until she was in her twenties. But then, her mother hadn’t been in a situation like this. Stress had a way of forcing things like this to the surface. Evelyn couldn’t stomach that option right now. The monstrous deformity had to be real.

A sudden move banged her head against the bars. Pain exploded out from the wound on her skull and her vision blurred for a moment. It was oddly comforting. A head injury. Stress. Fear. She rattled them off and clutched them close. Any of these could result in hallucinations. Blinking rapidly, she sucked in a deep breath, feeling a fantastic sense of accomplishment when her lungs swelled. The shackles of fear weren’t holding her as tightly as they had before. Taking advantage of her recklessness, she rolled onto her side and pushed up onto one forearm.

Carefully, she avoided looking at the TV screen and used its flickering light to search the room. The glow wasn’t as effective against the dense shadows as she had hoped. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust and allow her to make out a few shapes, objects, and what she assumed were the walls. It was almost an afterthought to look for the couple. The real threat, she reminded herself.