Chosen (The Urban Legends Series Book 1)

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Chosen (The Urban Legends Series Book 1) Page 19

by R. S. Broadhead


  Rich and pure … inside a dirty whore.

  Set it free … to be claimed by he.

  Slice the body … burn the flesh.

  One shall be chosen … and that one is thee.

  “You— You’re all cr-crazy,” I stuttered, when the words washed over me, and my brain registered what they were saying. They were chanting what they planned to do to me. I was the Chosen. I was the one they would slice. I was the one they would burn. Someone from behind, jerked me to my feet, and I screamed at the touch.

  I drove an elbow into the person’s pudgy belly, which seemed to swallow my boney arm whole. Amid wheezing and gasping for breath, the death grip fell away. I skidded to the side only to land into another pair of large hands. I kicked and flailed, but there was no hope. The more I fought, the more hands I felt holding my body down until I was entombed.

  They hoisted me to their shoulders, pinning my fighting limbs down. There was no use, but that wasn’t stopping me from fighting. I found strength all the way to the end and continued to struggle as exhaustion wore down on me.

  Lightning spread across the sky, but no storm hinted.

  A blazing fire leapt into the night, illuminating nothing but an abandoned field. Off in the distance, I could make out stalks of corn and the silhouettes of pines. It circled the platform I was nearing.

  The people begin to form a loose circle around the fire, but none broke their gaze from me. I was carried around to an opening, the heat of the fire practically becoming unbearable. They climbed the steps, bouncing me around in the process. Footsteps clamored against the platform as we covered it, making the crowd around us get louder with their chants. All at once, the hands that held me released their grip. I twisted and tumbled as gravity pulled me down. My head and back were the first to hit the chair. My head snapped forward with a pop as it struck the backrest. My spine grated across the metal before the rest of me landed in the seat, knocking the wind from my lungs. I winced, biting my lip as something warm ran down my back. I reached around to feel a piece of metal embedded deep into the lower area of my back.

  I tried to stand, crying out in pain, before I was tossed back into the chair. The metal went deeper causing the blood to increase. One of the mob reached for my arm, which I instinctively jerked away. Pain seared across my cheek as I received a powerful blow, dotting the perimeters of my vision. An iron taste flooded my mouth as blood pooled around my lower lip. My arm was jerked to the side again; this time I didn’t fight it. They used the leather straps to bind my arms and legs. I shook my head, trying to see clearly. Perspiration trickled down my nape and hit the already saturated bloodstain.

  “Piper…” His voice was all around me as the ashes from the fire danced in the air like snowflakes. I was left alone on the platform. A figure in velvet robes and a mask I recognized came around to the front of me. Harold. He held a torch. Without saying a word, he tossed the torch underneath the structure. Heat crept its way up my body, starting at my feet.

  I convulsed and rolled while my legs struggled against the straps. There was nothing I could do to stop my hands from clawing at the armrest. I was in a state of unreason. Sheer panic. All I wanted to do was get away from the searing flames. But they desired me. The orange dancing death licked greedily at my flesh, which made it fester with boils as layer by layer melted.

  Gritting my teeth, I refused to scream. These people stood watching for enjoyment. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing me shriek. Heat moved up my back, fast, covering my spine. I could smell myself cooking. I rocked, desperately wanting it to end. I coughed, unable to pull any air into my starved lungs. I would give anything to take my last breath, even if it was full of the putrid odor of my own scorched hair.

  “Please … stop it. Kill me.” With all the strength I could muster, I reached for the blurred faces that watched.

  They didn’t move.

  My hand dropped as the flames climbed. I closed my eyes, waiting. Something jerked me up so fast my stomach knotted. The leather straps snapped, tearing into me. A breeze caressed my aching body as the flames smothered me. My head drooped, and I was barely able to crack my swollen lids to stare at the ground at least fifteen feet beneath me. I wasn’t sure if the people were still there below. Everything was hard to see. The images morphed together in a pool of color.

  A slow rumble seemed to come from all around. Blackness swarmed me. The wings sounded like thunder beating across the sky in a rhythmic pattern. Tighter and tighter, each one flew, until they formed a funnel reaching beyond my sight above and below. The wind did little to comfort my charred flesh. What was left of skin on my hands and forearms quivered, demanding my attention. A thick layer of tissue began to reform. Pointed ebony claws extended from my hands as the darkness inched its way over both hands. It stopped just below my elbows. A blur of white flashed for a second, and a moment later, I was blinded.

  Something squeezed my head, covering everything from my nose up. Relief washed over me as the pain left. I gasped. My chest heaved as I gulped the air in coarse breaths. I felt nothing. The burning had stopped, leaving my skin feeling smooth and chilled in its wake. Blood cooled in my veins. My heart beat in my ears. I was weak and getting weaker as the seconds ticked by. Visions tumbled across my mind, making my eyes dampen with emotion.

  Thump. Thump.

  Zuri and I sat at the bar, toasting something. We swayed, catching each other before erupting into a fit of giggles. It was my first week at the office. I was a terrified newbie who didn’t have the first clue as to what to do. She’d taken me in since I was too afraid to talk to anyone there. At that point, I thought I would never have any friends there … until her. Every day she was my caring crutch who listened to whatever I wanted to bitch about. She never judged. She always took my side.

  Thump. Thump.

  A door flew open, and Nolan entered my apartment with two boxes in tow. I never dreamed I would be able to afford my own place in New York. But I’d done it. I had stood on my own and done it. He stumbled, spewing the contents across the empty living room. I came from the kitchen as he rocked on all fours gathering underwear and bras. My hand covered my mouth when he picked up a pair of granny panties. They were my comfy pair for my time of the month. I darted for them as he tossed them to the side and wrapped his arms around my waist. It was the Nolan I had fallen in love with. The one who’d ended up being a stranger to me in the end.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Water lapped at my ankles as I stretched my toes in the cool darkness. I tilted my head, stealing a look at Taylor. He stared out toward the trees as if he knew something I didn’t. He shifted as if he could sense my curiosity, and leaned close to me. His eyes were more alive than I had ever seen. They crinkled in the corners as a playful smile hinted at his lips. There was a heat there. A heat I would never feel again. A heat that I wanted to experience so desperately. He touched my cheek, tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear.

  Thump.

  I plopped down on a stool in my grandfather’s kitchen. I couldn’t hide the emotion that ached to pour out. My arms crossed on the counter, and within seconds, my face was buried in them. My back jumped as the tears poured. Pappy came in and sat next to me. He didn’t say anything at first. But I could feel him next to me. I lifted my head, trying to figure out how to confide in him. I couldn’t. He wouldn’t understand. My first boyfriend had broken my heart. I didn’t think I would ever be whole again. He slid a candy bar across the surface of the counter. I looked down at it and back up at him. He winked. I blinked, realizing that everything would be okay. I didn’t know when, but it would. I would get over him.

  Thump.

  Pappy and I sat on the steps of his house, each with a cup of tea beside us, both with our arms rested on our knees. He whistled and smiled. I pushed his arm, and he whistled louder. He taught me to whistle for whenever I needed him.

  As my heart took its final beat … I whistled.

  I was lowered to the ground.
Someone stood in front of me and unwrapped whatever covered my face. The white cloth dropped to the earth in a disheveled heap of fabric. Slick red skin reached out. The hand stopped short of my cheeks.

  My black hand met his, locking fingers. I looked up into Birsha’s eyes.

  My reflection gazed back at me. There were no burns. My skin had reconstructed, so smooth it reflected porcelain. Black hair rained down across my shoulders. I belonged to him now. Pappy’s promise had been kept. Deadly calm washed over me. Everything would be all right. Maybe…things would return to normal now.

  Taylor

  I slowed the car as a rundown motel came into view. It was nightfall, and this was the only place I had found along the broken road that seemed to be open. A few vehicles lined the front entrance of what appeared to be a restaurant. Gravel sprayed up as I decided at the last minute to pull in. It wouldn’t hurt to check in here to see if they had seen Piper. Everywhere else I had tried had been a bust. Week after week without even the tiniest bit of news or lead was wearing my faith thin.

  I’d had a bad feeling when she left that night. I couldn’t explain why, but at the pit of my stomach, something gnawed at me. It pulled, telling me to make her stay. But she had lost her grandfather, or so we’d thought. Anger festered in my chest, making its way to my hands. They instinctively tightened around the steering wheel, looking for something to take the pent-up aggression out on. By the time I stopped the car, I couldn’t hardly see straight. Only red.

  It was the same feeling I had every time I remembered the day I’d arrived at what I thought was a dead man’s house. The door had been closed. It had been dark inside. Everything that I had expected of a now-abandoned house. I had hoped for there to be a rental car sitting in the drive. Hoped that maybe Piper was too distraught to return to the city immediately after going through such a tough loss. But I was wrong.

  So. Wrong.

  I climbed out of the car, swallowing hard as I searched for any signs of life. Glancing at my phone, hoping to see a text message or missed call, I stalled before scrambling up the worn stairs. The screen door appeared to be homemade, two by fours with a thin mesh. It stood ajar from the frame, creaking as I pulled it back. I listened for anything. Surely, if someone was inside, there was no way they could miss such a loud noise. Silence. Maybe she was in there but thought it was the breeze moving it.

  I balled my fist, letting it hang in the air a few inches from the wooden door. If she wasn’t here, then I didn’t know what I was going to do. Report her missing? It had been a few days since she was supposed to arrive. Would the police bother looking into it now? Or would they write it off as a girl who was depressed and had fallen off the grid to mend her wounds?

  I beat against the door as hard as I could, so if anyone were inside they wouldn’t miss it. Dust clouded around me and landed on my nose and in my eyes. I blinked, stepping back to clear them. A burst of air caught me by surprise as the door was thrown back. A figure stood in front of me. I rubbed fervently so I could see.

  “Piper?” I questioned, assuming it was her.

  “Piper?” a gruff voice answered. “Mmmm … she hasn’t been home in several years. Can I help you?”

  An older man came into focus. White, wiry hair floated around a balding spot of the top of his head. He was still in good shape for a man of his age. His tanned skin showed he still worked outside. It took a few seconds to comprehend what he’d said, not to mention the fact that I was staring at a man who was supposed to be dead. Dead. Under the ground, not breathing in a sealed casket. He shifted against the frame, pulling me from my trance.

  “I don’t know how to tell you this, sir, but Piper was supposed to be here. She got a call from someone.” I paused, swallowing hard.

  I could already tell he wasn’t taking what I said well. His body had become rigid. His breathing was rapid.

  “They told her you died.”

  He stumbled back, grabbing for the frame of the door, but missing. Before I could catch him, he fell to a crumbled heap.

  I knelt, not really sure what to do.

  He cradled his body, drawing it as close to him as possible. “He got her.” Whimpers and sobs made his words difficult to understand.

  I leaned forward, pushing his shoulder back so he would face me. “What?”

  His eyes widened as if remembering I was there. “Nothing.” He raised himself to a seated position, swiping a hand across his nose.

  I refused to believe it was nothing. He knew something. She was his granddaughter, for crying out loud! Why wouldn’t he tell me if it might help bring her home?

  “With all due respect, no one just says, ‘He got her.’ You know something, don’t you?”

  His gaze fell to the floor, his eyes pooling with tears.

  “Don’t you?” I screamed.

  The old man sat, staring, his shoulders bouncing as he cried silently.

  Hours I spent trying to get that man to tell me what he knew. It was all for nothing. He was a stubborn ass who would rather let his only granddaughter die. The only thing I was able to find out was that he had experienced a heart attack, and he had spent weeks in the hospital recovering.

  I hit the steering wheel with my fist, making it ache. I gasped for air, my temperature spiking as beads of sweat ran down my temples. A couple ushering their child out of the restaurant made me refocus on why I was here. I sighed, making sure to tuck my wallet in my pants before I opened the door.

  The inside of the diner smelled great. I shifted near a gumball machine, letting some people by. They gave me curious looks before turning to each other. A guy, probably in his early twenties, approached, grabbing a menu from a wire rack to the side of me.

  “Dining in today?” He smiled, letting his eyes size me up.

  I rolled my shoulders back. Intimidation was key if I was going to get any information out of people.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you want a booth or the bar? The bar is much faster because that’s the area I take care of.” The way he’d said it came off as if I needed to congratulate him on a job well done.

  I simply nodded, motioning toward the bar. “Over there is fine.” I followed him to the corner of the bar and took a seat as he went behind the counter. I cast a look over the place, catching several pairs of eyes staring back at me. Trying not to seem as if I noticed the attention I was getting, I grabbed the menu. “What’s good to eat here?”

  “Everything.” He laughed. “But if you ask me, the BLT is the best.”

  I put the menu down, focusing on him.

  “Sounds good. That and a water.”

  He scratched the order across a pad and left me sitting alone. Despite everyone seeming overly interested in me, the people seemed … ordinary. Of course, most serial killers did. Take the kid waiting on me. He had the whole Norman Bates thing down to a science. I bet if I came back after dark, he would be in some women’s clothing with a wig. As if on cue, he reappeared with my water and a joker grin.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, trying to make small talk before I told him why I was really there.

  “Jensen. You?”

  “Taylor.”

  “You don’t look or sound like you’re from around here, Taylor…”

  I took a sip of my water. “Is it that obvious?” I asked, putting it back down on the bar.

  “No one dresses like that around here. And your accent tells me you’re probably from up north.”

  I nodded, trying my best to be friendly.

  He leaned in closer, resting his elbows on the counter near me. His polite façade disappeared. “So what brings you to Hell?”

  What kind of name was Hell for a town?

  I reached for my wallet and dropped it on the counter before opening it. I pulled out the picture I had tucked in one of the folds. A picture I had taken from Piper’s grandfather’s house the day I stopped there. My thumb ran across the glossy print. It was a recent photo she must have sent him. It was her headshot for th
e newspaper where she worked.

  “I’m looking for someone. She disappeared a few weeks ago. She would’ve been coming through on Highway 5. I know this is a good ways from there, but I thought maybe if she was lost or … someone brought her here … you might have seen her.”

  He took the picture, and stared at it for a few moments.

  “Nope. Never seen her.” He continued to stare, his mouth twitching.

  “Are you sure? Maybe she looked different. Hair a different way, no makeup.” Abruptly, he straightened. “Sir, if a girl that looked that way came through here, I’d know. It’s not like everyone around here is drop-dead gorgeous like she was.”

  “Was? What do you mean by was?” I clutched a napkin so hard my knuckles turned as white as the material.

  His mouth dropped as he eyed me and the napkin.

  I jumped up from my stool, causing it to slam back into the wall. Chatter around us stopped. Every eye was watching.

  “Answer me!”

  He cringed.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it. It-It came out wrong, I guess. I haven’t seen her. I swear it.”

  I wanted to rip him off his feet. Torture him. Anything to find out if he was really telling me the truth. I wanted to find her so bad. I felt so guilty.

  “Sir … maybe you should leave.”

  I turned to find a few older guys standing behind me, one with a fedora in the middle. Great, now I’ve attracted the lynch mob. They will probably string me up and leave me to die somewhere. It didn’t matter. None of it did. I wasn’t going to find her. She was gone. My shoulders slumped as I snatched Piper’s picture from the counter.

  “I guess I should.” I grabbed some twenties out of my wallet and tossed them down. “This is for the trouble.”

  Once back at the car, I realized it was over. I had done everything I could. I had left numbers with everyone I’d met. I’d even made sure to drop a card down under the twenties in case Jensen decided he had remembered something. I had searched everywhere around here. Talked to everyone she could have talked to. Nothing. It was time for me to go back to New York. I had a job there. I had a life. Piper just wasn’t meant to be in it, I guessed.

 

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