Page 21 of A Hail From Hell: Vol 1

Bruce’s kick was brutal against Evan’s stomach, sending him—and the mirror—flying back.

He crashed flat on the floor, blood spurting from his mouth on impact. A crack reverberated somewhere in his body, but he was too distracted. Witnessing—in gut-wrenching pain—as the mirror tipped off its stand.

It swayed momentarily...then crashed to the floor with a deafening shatter.

Evan’s arms flew up, shielding his face against the flying shards.

The thick golden chains around the mirror snapped, and a sudden burst of heat enveloped the room.

Somewhere under that loud crash, there was a shrill, agonized cry. The walls and the floor beneath Evan hummed in satisfaction as faint whispers bloomed into his ears again.

Evan lay flat on the floor, his arms caging his head, eyes squinted at the dark clouds creeping into the sky beyond the glass pane. Unnaturally fast, the clouds obstructed the moonlight from entering the room.

Darkness ascended as the moon hid away. The array formation faded.

Fantastic.

Unaware of the shift in the atmosphere, one of the men hauled Evan up by the collar.

“Come here,” Bruce grabbed Evan’s jaw as blood flooded his mouth, trickling down the corners of his lips. “Today I’ll teach you a lesson.”

Evan’s brain turned foggy as the heaviness in the air wrapped around him, his unfocused eyes falling on the shattered mirror.

A subtle rumble shook the floor beneath them, but none of the others seemed to notice. Not even when a cloud of black smoke formed through the cracks on the mirror. The rage and resentment wafting from it made Evan choke on thin air.

It smelled like death.

“Run…” He managed to grit out, grabbing onto Bruce’s arm. “Go!”

“You think I’m afraid of you?” Clenching his jaws, Bruce raised his fist to land another punch.

Evan shut his eyes and clenched his jaws, waiting for the burst of pain to bloom in his face.

But it never came.

The flashlights flickered in the men’s grasp, making Bruce’s fist halt three inches away from Evan’s face. Within moments, the few sources of light in the room went out one by one, dousing them in complete darkness.

A chaos of curses and terrified yelps erupted.

Bruce shoved Evan back, keeping a loose grip on his collar.

“What the fuck happened?” He barked. “Why are the—”

His next words ended in a choked gurgle. A strained wheezing breath.

Bruce stilled. Slowly, his fingers uncurled from Evan’s collar and fell away.

Evan blinked in the dark, holding onto his aching stomach and spitting a mouthful of blood. When no curses or fists flew in his direction, his stomach knotted with dread.

“Hello?”

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Evan flinched as something dropped onto the floor near his feet. He reached into the dark, blindly swinging his hand through empty air.

Empty.

Groaning, he crouched, feeling the floor for his flashlight, and found it lying a few feet away from him. As he slapped it against his palm a few times, it flickered on for a second. A brief second that shed light over the four bodies lying on the floor.

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