The colorless snow was streaked with bright red. Moonlight glistened on the beast's pointed teeth as its lips drooped lifelessly away from its mouth. Death had caused its muscles to relax, but Emily could swear it died with a snarl on its face. Its eyes were beginning to frost over, staring up at the cosmos with an empty gaze. Emily gulped. “What is it?”
Tim shook his head. “I don't know.” He knelt in the snow and examined the corpse, inching closer. When he realized his knees were dangerously close to the congealing pool of blood, he made a disgusted face and stood up, dusting clumps of snow from his knees.
“The car is fucked,” he said, gesturing to the bent up Jeep Cherokee. “We'll be lucky if it starts.”
“Some vacation, huh?” Emily smiled at him, trying to lighten the mood.
Tim stared at her. An inner darkness swirled in his silver-blue eyes. The tension in the air was almost palpable, as if Emily could reach out and grab a piece of it and chuck it like a snowball. “I planned this trip for you,” he growled. “You were too nervous to fly. Not interested in the beach.”
“The beach for Christmas, Tim? It didn't seem right...”
He shook his head. “The vineyard was much, much closer, half the distance of the ski resort, but we couldn't go there because you've lost all self-control.” His face contorted, as if disgusted by her. “You've been drinking like a fish ever since that damn miscarriage.”
Tim looked away as Emily gasped. “That damn miscarriage?” She searched his face, her brown eyes glistening under a sheen of fresh tears. “Is that how you feel? Because I feel like I lost a piece of myself. A piece that will never be replaced.”
“I know how you feel. Oh trust me, I know! It's been two months of you telling me how you feel, moping around, crying over every little thing.”
“You bastard.”
“Oh, come on! Grow up and admit it. We both know that baby wasn't—”
Tim froze. His eyes widened. He no longer looked at Emily, but past her, at the shadowy forest.
A frigid gust of wind stole her breath as Emily turned to face the woods. What she saw next nearly stopped her heart. A huge figure burst from the trees beyond the car. It raced toward them on all fours, using its long, powerful arms to gain speed. Its knuckles flung clumps of snow into the air as it ran.
It was much larger than the animal they had killed, at least seven feet tall hunched over. She didn't want to imagine how tall it would be standing up. Fear paralyzed Emily as the monster drew nearer. Rage was evident on its face. Its red eyes were squinted and narrow, a vicious, drooling snarl on its snout. It flew past her, leaving tracks in the snow the size of watermelons.
It tackled Tim to the ground. Its long, curved talons dug into his shoulders. Fresh blood splattered the snow as Tim screamed. The creature pinned him down. Its lips opened to reveal crooked, yellow fangs.
“Tim!” she screamed. “No!” But the beast paid no attention.
Its wide, ape-like nostrils flared as it sniffed Tim's trembling face, licking its lips. Emily ran toward them, unsure of what to do. She had to do something. Had to distract it. She couldn't stand by and let Tim die.
“Leave him alone!” she screamed as it lunged for Tim's neck. Within seconds, the creature's fur was smeared in gore. The crimson color of Tim's blood was so vibrant against the whiteness all around her, the sickening contrast of it made Emily's head spin. Her stomach lurched, threatening to evict her last meal.
Tim shrieked as the creature pulled chunks of flesh from the wound, not even bothering to chew, ripping ferociously at anything it could sink its teeth into. Tendons, veins, and muscle tissue dangled from its maw. Tim writhed in pain. His limbs formed a haphazard angel in the snow.
Something grabbed Emily from behind, and she yelped. The beast paused and glanced up at her, but quickly returned its attention to Tim. It ripped into his chest, burying its snout in his rib cage. Blood-curdling screams echoed through the mountainside, but Tim's cries were fading, growing softer as he bled out.
“Emily, get back in the car.” Eric was beside her, pulling her. He forced her toward the Jeep.
She tore away. “What are you doing? We have to help Tim!”
He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed them with shaky fists. Gently, he shook her, as if waking her from a dream. “Em... there's nothing we can do for him. Get back in the car!”
“No!” she sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “No. We have to help him!”
In her peripheral vision, she saw the beast rise. It glared at them, talons dripping blood onto the frosty asphalt. Tim lay motionless at its feet, bathed in shadow. Its fur rippled in the wind, the same color as the moon.
Before either of them could say a word, the creature sprang into action. It charged forward on all fours, kicking up snow clumps. It moved in a blur. The earth shook beneath its heavy footfalls, fists pumping furiously in the snow.
Eric held her hand as they raced together toward the car. Emily knew that Eric stood a better chance without her. If he let go, left her behind, he could escape. But he didn't. He tightened his grip on her hand, practically dragging her along.
Their intertwined fingers were pulled apart as the monster slammed into Eric, bringing him down. Its fur grazed Emily's skin, sending a chill up her spine. Their hands—gripped together just seconds before—grew further and further apart as the beast took Eric to the ground. Snow flew into the air where they landed. Eric yelped, instantly scrambling to get away, but pinned to the earth by the giant animal.
It raised its hand. Tim's blood shined black on its claws as a cloud dimmed the moonlight. The monster slashed Eric's face, reared its head back and growled. Eric's flesh parted, leaving behind a ragged trail of broken skin. His terrified screams mixed with the low, guttural growl of the beast as it drooled over him, teeth bared in a wicked snarl. “Emily...” Eric sputtered, choking on blood. “Run.”
She heard him whimper as she turned and raced toward the Jeep. It was a soft defeated noise, so unlike Eric. He never showed signs of pain, or fear. Her heart pounded as she confronted the terror of being alone, truly alone, with a bloodthirsty monster.
Snow crunched underfoot as she trudged through the mounds that had been plowed to the side of the road. She reached the Jeep's door, knees trembling. She gripped the handle, pulled it open. But it was too late. The beast was on her.
The brutal force of its weight slammed against her. Powerful limbs gripped her, straddled her. The air was knocked from her lungs. She saw her breath hanging in the air like a steamy fog as she fell onto her back. The frozen ground smacked her head, sending stars into her vision. Emily struggled to keep consciousness.
Snow fell over her eyes and filled her mouth as she tried to scream. Her skin burned where the frost touched her, so frigid that it felt hot. Her throat spasmed as she gasped for air. She shook her head frantically from side to side, flinging the snow from her face.
The beast stared down at her with squinted eyes that glittered like rubies in its pale face. A beam of moonlight shined over its shoulder, but its wide, bulky frame blocked out the stars, the trees, and everything else. Its breath smelled of raw meat. Massive chest muscles heaved beneath its matted fur coat. The hair around its monstrous gorilla mouth was speckled with shreds of human flesh. Morsels of fatty tissue hung from its tangled facial hair.
Emily realized the beast was squatting, rather than sitting. It was pinning her down the same way a human would hold down a cat, using a small portion of its strength. If its full body weight settled on top of her, her spine would snap like a brittle twig.
She had nothing left to lose. She was no match for the beast. Emily flailed her arms, frantically clawing at the snow that encased her like a tomb, searching for anything she could use—a stick, a sharp piece of ice. She found nothing. The creature leered down at her, fresh drool on its fangs. She balled her fists and punched every inch of the beast that her fists could reach. It didn't so much as flinch.
She pushed the sno
w away from her face, punched the hard, frosty clumps as she hollered like a banshee. A barrier of snow crumbled beside her head, and she could see her surroundings now. She looked around, desperate for an idea, a plan. Trembling, she caught sight of Eric. He was sprawled across the highway about ten feet away, his body twisted at unnerving angles.
She lost it then. All the pent-up sorrow she had harbored inside came crashing through the emotional levy in her soul. For years, she had kept it at bay—a river of doubt, fear, and rejection that threatened to overflow and flood her broken heart. She knew Tim had a thing for other women, an urge he acted upon often. He would come home with a faulty excuse, details that didn't quite add up. He refused to look her in the eye after he cheated. That's how she knew, time after time.
She had struggled, every day, to calm the waters of her depression, to hold her sadness inside. But now—face to face with death—it all rushed to the surface. Tears poured from her eyes, running down her cheeks, freezing as they hit the icy road.
The emptiness she felt as she witnessed herself growing old had caused Emily to obsess over one thing: a child. That's what she needed to be happy. Trapped in a predictable, loveless relationship with a man who was never satisfied, she was tired of trying to understand where they went wrong. Her biological clock was ticking. It was time for a baby. If Tim had ever loved her before the passion left their marriage, he would grant her this wish. Despite his hesitations, he would make her a mother. The issue was non-negotiable.
And yet, Tim's indifference to the pregnancy had only deepened her sadness and fanned the flames of their tension. She realized, now, she'd been hoping it would fix them, make their relationship happy again. But it didn't.
Emily sobbed uncontrollably. She coughed, choking on snot as she lay helpless, pinned down by the hulking beast. It closed its blood-stained lips over its teeth. Each heavy breath caused its wide nostrils to flare and leave thick clouds of steam in the air. The creature stared at her, but didn't attack.
She no longer fought back. Her body quivered, face streaked with tears. “Just come on and get it over with!” she screamed. Still the beast did not strike. It sat motionless, watching her cry.
She looked up at her captor. She tried to read its face. Its scarlet eyes were glassy, brow creased with sadness. Moisture glistened on its red eyes and glazed the blackness of its pupils. The eyelids slowly blinked and squeezed a teardrop onto its cheek.
The ape-like creature extended a melon-sized fist toward Emily's face. She flinched as its finger—human in appearance, but much longer and thicker—wiped the wetness from her cheeks. The skin on the underside of its hand felt cold and leathery on her skin. One of its jagged claws left a shallow scratch on her cheek. Yet... something had changed. The rage had drained from its face.
It wiped the tears from her cheeks, then touched its own face. It turned its body to look behind them at the road. The creature's profile was stunning. Moonbeams framed its massive head. Its broad, powerful jaw was capable of opening a foot wide. She had seen it earlier when it howled.
It made a sound somewhere between a growl and a sigh and rose to its feet, looking down at Emily. Her body trembled as she whimpered in its shadow, still frightened. The creature grunted, turned to face the highway, and walked away.
Snow crunched underfoot as it approached the smaller beast—the one that had caused the accident. Minutes ago, Emily had thought the fallen animal was gigantic. But now, as the large beast approached and knelt down, she saw things in a different light. It scooped the dead body into its arms. Fresh smears of blood joined the old ones on its gore-streaked coat. It cradled the corpse, hugging it close.
A grieving mother and a slaughtered child.
The beast's silky fur caught the moonlight as it struggled to stand, fumbling with the weight of the lifeless body it carried. The heavy snow came down fast, hitting them at a diagonal angle. The creature's fur whipped in the wind as it glared at Emily.
The head of the smaller animal hung over its arms. It bobbed up and down as the beast turned to pad away, walking slowly on two legs. It slipped past the treeline into the dark woods, and something about the image chilled Emily to the core. She felt colder, even more frightened, as she watched the strange, human-like beast carry its dead offspring into the forest.
Were there others in the shadows of the trees, waiting? Watching? She shivered.
A wheezing sound caught Emily's attention. Then a gurgle. She turned to face the fallen brothers—her family, now ripped apart. Her eyes settled on Eric, then on her husband. Tim's body was motionless under a thin blanket of snow. Flakes spiraled through the air, dancing on the frigid breeze. Nothing else stirred. Neither body moved.
Emily ran to where Tim lay. She dropped to all fours and crawled toward him. Pins and needles stung her bare, freezing hands, but she paid no attention. She came close to him, reached out to hold his hand, and recoiled.
The beast's sharp, curvy claws had spilled Tim's intestines into a heap. Lengthy entrails cooled and congealed in a puddle of frosty fluids next to his corpse. His wide, unblinking eyes were frozen in a fearful expression. The color had drained from his lips. Blood dripped from his open mouth. It trailed down the ice to join the messy pile of guts.
The scene was too much for Emily. The disemboweled corpse of her husband, the ravaged neck and broken bones. It didn't seem real. Too much like a dream. She closed her eyes against the horror. When she opened them, Tim's face still gathered frost, unblinking eyes fixed on the stars.
“I'm so sorry, Tim.” Her bottom lip quivered. She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting to maintain body heat. “I don't know what happened to us, or where we went wrong, but I did love you. I always did.” She lowered her head. “Merry Christmas, baby,” she said.
There was the sound of wheezing and choking again. This time someone whispered, weakly, “Emily...” She turned to look at Eric, sprawled on the edge of the road. He raised his hand, palm slick with blood, and coughed. Bright red droplets spattered the snow.
“Eric!” she yelped. She jumped to her feet. She almost fell as her boot slid on a patch of ice. She ran to him, fell to her knees, grabbed his hand and gently squeezed. “Eric...”
“Em...”
“Shhh. Shhh. Save your strength. Don't talk.” She stroked his face, running shaky fingers through his hair. “I need to get my cell phone. I'm going to call for help. You stay with me, Eric. You keep those eyes open. Don't close them, okay?”
He gripped her hand. His body shivered in the freezing wind. The scratch wounds on his face were deep. His arm was broken at the elbow, ribs crushed inward. He held onto Emily as his teeth chattered uncontrollably, eyes rolling in their sockets.
A wave of sadness washed over Emily. What if he didn't make it?
“And Eric...” She tightened her grip on his hand. She wanted to throw her arms around him and squeeze, but his injuries were too severe. “I have something important to tell you.” Eric struggled to focus, strained to keep his eyelids from shutting. “The baby...” Her tears dripped onto his arm. “I want you to know the baby was yours.”
She saw a change in his face. His features softened, and he looked almost peaceful. It was an overdue expression, one she had longed to see on Tim's face when she told him she was pregnant. A certain kind of pride. Happiness—quickly followed by a look of sadness as Eric remembered the miscarriage. But Emily had seen it, a twinkling in his eyes... even through all the pain.
“That night we spent together...” She tried to finish her sentence, but couldn't find the right words. She kissed his lips, looked into his eyes. Tears rolled down her face and left a trail where they warmed her frostbitten skin. “I'll be back. I'll get help. Don't close your eyes!”
She rose to her feet and raced for the Jeep as memories took over her mind. Memories of Tim and his lying, cheating ways. Of his girlfriends, calling the house and hanging up, leaving notes in the pockets of his clothes. The clues were too many, too frequent, for her t
o turn the other cheek any longer.
One night, she went to Eric for comfort. She cried on his shoulder for hours. Things got out of hand, and they ended up in bed together. But Emily didn't regret it. Alone on this cold mountain, face to face with the possibility of losing Eric forever, it was the only memory that truly brought her joy.
The Tooth Collector (and Other Tales of Terror) Page 4