They both looked ahead, to the road winding away from them, down the mountain, toward safety, freedom.
Then there was a flash of white darting from one tree trunk to another.
Evangeline’s body went rigid. “What was that?”
Roger followed her gaze. “I didn’t see anything.”
“There,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. The color drained from her face, and she clutched Roger’s arm, stepping back and pulling him with her.
Roger strained to see what she had, his eyes peering into the darkness. Suddenly, his blood ran cold. Grabbing his wife, he began running toward the town.
They heard branches snapping behind them. The creature snarled and huffed, bellowing as it pursued its prey.
“Don’t look back!” Roger shouted as he tugged her along. The cabin wasn’t far from the town, only slightly elevated on the mountain and hidden from plain view. As they rushed on, the jolly, inviting Christmas lights of Cherryton shone brightly ahead of them.
Again, Evangeline felt that indescribable urge to look back, to see how much distance was between it and them. Her long blonde hair whipped around her face as she started to turn, but just then, her left boot heel broke. Her hand slipped out of Roger’s, and she found herself sprawling across ice and snow.
“Eve!” Roger yelled.
Evangeline began to look up, bits of snow covering her eyelashes, her face awash in red, green, yellow, and blue light.
There were two hooves in front of her.
She was rendered immobile with fear when she saw it.
Taller than any man she had ever seen, it was eight, maybe nine, feet in height. The beast’s body was covered in white fur splotched with dark red. Its arms extended to the sides, hideous, clawed fingers the length of her own arms. Two colossal horns were atop its head, twisted backward, and it had a thin, pointed nose, and deep-set, bloodshot eyes that glowed in the darkness.
Its expression narrowed, distorting its features further as it opened its mouth to reveal wickedly long teeth embedded into black gums. Its tongue lolled out and hung there, strands of saliva dribbling onto the snow.
And then she felt Roger grab her and pull her away, just as those sharp, hooked fingers swept forward.
Roger was dragging her backward, but the hooves didn’t move, they didn’t follow them.
Instead they began to back away.
Evangeline stared, puzzled.
“Roger,” she began, her voice raspy. “Roger, it doesn’t like the lights!” she cried out as the creature threw its arms up to block its face. It stumbled around, emitting a high-pitched keening.
Roger wasn’t responding, just carrying her deeper into the town, determined to get her to safety.
“Roger!” she exclaimed, finally breaking her stare and pulling out of Roger’s grasp. “Look!”
He turned around and saw that the unholy creature was still following them, but at a sluggish pace, clearly affected by the Christmas lights and their incessant twinkling.
He looked at the town hall just in time to see a man rushing up the steps to the large building. Roger was willing to bet that it was the same man driving the tow truck from earlier that night.
Guess my knot-tying skills could use a little work.
“Look! Someone is up ahead! Maybe he can help us!” Evangeline exclaimed.
Roger suddenly remembered what the tow truck driver had said to him: “They’re all waiting for me at the center of town.”
He held Evangeline’s shoulders, knowing what had to be done.
“We can’t let this happen again,” he said softly, but the fear was now gone from his voice, replaced by solemn determination.
She searched his face in confusion. “What do you mean?” Her eyes darted from the town hall back to the monster following them, but its movements were so slow that they no longer needed to run.
“They are going to keep doing this, Evie. It won’t stop with us. It’ll happen again next year and the year after that. Every single time this damn thing wakes up and decides it wants to feed. They won’t stop sacrificing poor, hapless souls like us to keep it happy.”
“What are you saying, Roger?” she asked insistently.
“Look, I need you to get to a safe place. If you take a left up there and keep going, you’ll come across a gas station. In the back is a big tow truck. Take it. I just need you to trust me, baby, okay?”
He ran to the side of the road and grabbed a strand of the large bulb lights. Smashing the bulbs against the bannister from where the strand had come, he clutched the shards of the broken bulbs in his hand. “Eve, I want you to run when I tell you to. Will you do that for me?”
She clenched her jaw. “You’re coming with me.”
“I’ll be right behind you, Evie. I just need you to do this one thing for me. Please, baby.” “Why can’t we go together?” she demanded.
“Please, Evie. We don’t have time to argue!” Roger pleaded. “It will follow me; it’ll follow the blood.”
“Roger!” she yelped in horror as he took a long shard of glass and dragged it across his palm.
Blood streamed down his hand and onto the snow below, a small circle that expanded out steadily.
The creature’s head snapped in their direction.
What little time they’d had left before was gone.
“I love you, Evie,” he said with a sad smile. “I’m sorry I haven’t been a better husband to you. I’m sorry I failed us.” Tears trickled down his cheeks. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.” He reached forward with his other hand and touched his forehead to hers. “Don’t ever forget how much I love you.”
Tears filled her eyes as he took a step back. How was it that you realized how much you loved and needed and wanted someone only when you were about to lose it all? How sad was that?
Evangeline shook her head viciously.
Rushing forward, she met him and took his bleeding hand.
She wasn’t going to let him do this alone. “Not without you.”
“Damn your stubbornness, Evangeline Miller.” But Roger’s heart leapt knowing his best friend and lifelong partner was by his side.
Both of them stood still in the middle of the road and faced the creature.
The lights no longer seemed to deter it as they had before. It was fixated on the blood dripping from Roger’s wounded hand, its tongue lolling about frantically, its eyes wild with feral hunger.
Then it charged them with the ferocity of a bull, snarling and roaring, tearing through the strands of Christmas lights entangled in its horns.
“Run,” Roger said.
The two of them took off as fast as they could for the town hall.
When they reached the entrance, they put their blood-covered hands on the doors and shoved them open.
A hundred faces turned to them when they entered, their expressions bewildered.
Roger and Evangeline paused for the briefest of seconds.
Then Roger saw them, hooded figures scattered throughout the room of townspeople.
He grabbed Evangeline’s hand and pulled her forward, running past the strangers, ignoring their looks of terror as the monster tore in behind them.
They pushed through the crowd just as the screams started, as the blood sprayed across the white walls and marbled floors.
There were tall windows at the end of the room, and Roger and Evangeline ran right for them, their fingers still intertwined.
They raised their free hands to cover their faces as they jumped through the windows, glass exploding around them just as the room succumbed to pure chaos.
***
Roger and Evangeline rose to their feet, never letting go of each other’s hands. As they walked toward the gas station, the first vestiges of sunlight spread across the mountain.
Evangeline hadn’t felt this happy in a long time.
She squeezed his hand. “Roger,” she said softly, “this was the best Christmas ever.”
He raised an eyebrow, but exuded the same happiness she did.
“But I sure am glad we didn’t bring the kids!”
Chapter 5
C ora sat there, waiting in breathless anticipation, hoping and praying that this last story would mean her freedom.
It had to be.
She wanted to be strong, to be resilient in the face of adversity the same way she wrote her characters, but she was exhausted. The adrenaline from the craziness of the evening was beginning to wear off and leave her feeling depleted physically and creatively.
The only thing fueling her at this point was hope… hope that Damon would keep his word and set her free… and that Marisa wouldn’t kill her before he did.
“Well, that was sappy,” Damon said finally, still studying the floor as though some grandiose secret was hidden in the wood grain.
Sappy. Great, he hated it.
“But you did have that… Krampus… in there, so I can’t knock it too much.” Cora breathed a sigh of relief, and Damon smirked. “Do they make it in the end? I thought they were headed for divorce.”
Adjusting herself in the chair, Cora replied, “I’d like to think they do. Did it feel like a cliffhanger?”
He looked at her, puzzled.
“I think anyone who went through something like that, almost facing death… I think that would bring them closer together.” She smiled. “Well, that’s how I like to imagine it anyways.”
Damon’s cheeks raised, his grin mirroring hers in approval.
It’s working. You’re getting through to him.
Feeling encouraged to share more, she went on, “The hardest part about what I do is trying to please everyone. Sometimes even the strong fan base isn’t enough. I try hard to avoid reading reviews of my books, but a one-star review is like a punch to the gut every time. I want to focus on the good reviews, but honestly, it wrecks me. My friends tell me I’m too much of a realist to be able to hone in on the positives. It’s a curse really.”
“‘Curse’… Is that your…” He gestured dramatically in the air. “…your white whale? Getting over one-star reviews?” Damon asked her, shaking his head and not attempting to mask his disdain. “Look at this place. It’s not even your main house. It’s a ‘side’ home. And your side home is ten times better than where I grew up.” He chuckled bitterly. “You like stories so much, right? Let me tell you one, about a little boy and his mom. Twenty years ago. Trailer park on the outskirts of town. My mom tried the best that she could raising me alone, and we were poor, but at least we were happy.” His expression darkened. “Then she met Marisa’s dad, and… things were never the same again.”
Damon didn’t elaborate, but he didn’t need to; Cora imagined the memories weren’t pleasant ones.
“Meanwhile,” he continued, “you probably had parents who threw you tea parties and bought you a pony for your birthday. You got a car when you turned sixteen. And back then, the biggest ‘curse’ you had was maybe being mad at your parents because they didn’t get you the color paint job you wanted on that brand-new coupe.” He leafed through her book. “Yeah, that’s the type, I can see it now. In this town, we don’t have that type. We’re all struggling to get by. We don’t get cars when we turn sixteen; some of us have never even seen a pony. My mom met Marisa’s dad because she needed money to feed me. But she stayed with him because in this town, you don’t survive trying to make it on your own. It’ll chew you up and spit you out.” She noticed his lower lip quiver just the slightest bit, and even though he was cutting her down with insults, a small part of her wished he could have had an easier life. “You know what thing I wanted most as a kid? To see my mom happy. To see her have that storybook romance she always dreamed of. But that shit doesn’t exist, not for us anyways. You want to talk about cursed? Just take a good, hard look at Marisa and I.”
Cora’s stomach flopped, and she knew she’d messed up again, dredging up terrible memories by trying to seem relatable.
Before she could respond, the sound of floorboards scraped together, and Marisa shouted, “Well, I’ll be dammed—she wasn’t lying. Damon, get your ass in here!”
Damon shifted in Marisa’s direction and began to stand. He glanced at Cora, but she couldn’t tell if he was more disappointed in her for being so petty, or if the weight of the hopeless life he lived had just come crashing down on him.
Great job; the only ally you might have had now thinks you’re a stuck-up princess.
“Wait!” Cora pleaded. “Let me go. Once she has what she wants, she’ll kill me.” She struggled in the chair in frustration. “I told you where to find the gold. There’s enough in there to give you both a fresh start. And I told you not one, but two stories, just like you asked. I’ve done everything you wanted and more. Please… please! Cut me loose.”
Damon’s posture was rigid, conflicted, but he said nothing.
Marisa ran in, her features uncharacteristically jubilant.
“Look!” she exclaimed, holding up a kilo bar of gold triumphantly. “Look! This isn’t the only one. There’s more, like lots more! We’ll be set for a very long time, brother.” She glanced at Cora. “It looks like you weren’t totally worthless after all.” Then she sneered. “I was beginning to worry all we’d find in here were your stupid books.”
Damon stared at the gold bar, its smooth surface glinting in the light as Marisa rotated it for him to admire. Even Cora couldn’t help but be captivated by its sparkle.
She cursed herself for her stupidity, leaving the bars improperly secured under the floorboards. They should have been protected in a bank, in a safe somewhere.
A safe...
Her eyes flickered to Damon. He still hadn’t told Marisa, his own sister, about the safe.
Certainly he was interested in it. He’d asked Cora for the code multiple times.
Taking advantage of the lightened mood from Marisa, Cora cleared her throat. “I gave you the gold, just like I promised…”
“And what?” Any joy from Marisa’s countenance vanished. “What exactly do you think is going to happen to you now?” she asked with a chilling seriousness.
The color faded from Cora’s face as she came to a sharp realization.
They don’t need you anymore.
“Damon, please. I know this isn’t you.”
“You think you know him now because you’ve spent a couple hours with him? You think he’s going to save you? Set you free? Damn, you are a stupid little twat.” Marisa pulled the knife from her pocket, flipping the handle toward Damon. “You created this mess. Clean it up.”
Damon stood still for a moment before reaching out and accepting the knife. “You don’t know me, Cora. If you weren’t tied to a chair, you would never even bat an eyelash at me, or people like me.”
No. Don’t let her twist this.
“Please, Damon. I gave you the gold! I told you about the safe! I can tell you where it is; I can give you the code,” Cora sputtered in desperation.
Marisa looked stunned. “Safe…What is this bitch talking abo—”
Before Marisa could finish her sentence, Damon whirled around and plunged the knife into her belly. He never broke eye contact with her as he violently ripped the blade up to her ribcage.
Marisa’s eyes wide with shock, rivulets of blood trailing down her chin, she held onto Damon’s shoulders as she slowly sank to the ground.
Chapter 6
C ora screamed, but no sound came out, save for her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to process what had just happened.
Marisa lay on the floor, gurgling and choking on her own blood as the life drained from her body. Her eyes were fixated on Cora, her lips moving wordlessly, until they finally stilled forever.
Cora felt a mixture of relief and horror.
She was going to kill you. He killed her to save you.
She wanted to believe it, to trust the voice in her head, but there was something detached in his stance, in his silence.
Shivering, she
looked down. There were goosebumps all along her arms.
But so what if he did? Someone willing to murder his sister in cold blood is a monster.
And if he can do it to Marisa, what do you think he’ll do to you, a mere stranger?
Cora felt the relief metamorphosize, and in milliseconds, she had never been more frightened in her entire life. She’d mistakenly thought she had somehow won Damon over with her stories, built camaraderie, that he would protect her, defend her, but as she gaped at Marisa’s corpse, it was clear the situation was quickly spiraling out of control.
Damon faced away from Cora, but she had an unobstructed view of Marisa’s lifeless body, a look of sheer betrayal frozen in her expression.
“Damon, what did you do?” she murmured, unable to conceal her revulsion. “She was your sister!”
“Half-sister,” he corrected her, but the way he said it, with such callousness, made it seem like he didn’t even care. “She was going to stab me in the back.”
Cora shook her head disbelievingly. “What are you talking about?”
He wiped the blade on his pants then turned to her. “She didn’t know that I knew.”
“I don’t understand, Damon.”
“She didn’t know I overheard her talking with her boyfriend about her plans.” He hesitated as if he wasn’t sure he could share this with Cora, but it also seemed as though he wanted to lift some kind of invisible burden he’d been carrying. “She was going to use me to help her rob you, then once we got back to our shithole trailer, she would leave with him in the middle of the night and take all the money or jewelry or whatever the hell else we found in this cabin.”
Cora didn’t know how to respond. Yes, Marisa planned to double-cross him, but did that mean he was justified in killing her over it? She could imagine countless other ways to disable Marisa that didn’t involve murder.
“My mom married Marisa’s dad when I was twelve. She may have been my sister by marriage, but… she’s never been a sister to me.” His voice caught, but he cleared his throat and stretched. “I have to take a piss. Don’t go anywhere,” he added with a half-smile.
And Soon Comes the Darkness Page 10