Page 81 of Grotesque
“Shut up,shut up,” Quint hissed. “You know what thisthingis, and you don’t seem to mind him or whatever fucked up shit he gets up to in thiscreepyfucking house.” His voice was shaking now. “He’s a demon. He’s possessed you or something. So,” he directed his words to Corban now. “You let me go, or I kill her.”
Corban’s head tilted downward as he let out a menacing hiss. He seemed to be looming larger, filling the cellar, sucking all the air from the room. “No more saving the damsel?”
I opened my mouth to spit some choice words of my own, but the blade pressed harder, and I swallowed them down. Surely Quint wasn’t stupid enough to try and bargain for his life. Not when the evidence of Corban’s lack of mercy was piled all around us.There had to be the remains of one hundred bodies in this cellar, or more.
“Fuck no,” he spat. “She’s clearly as crazy as every other bitch that’s lived in this house if she would choose you.”
Oh no he didn’t…
Consequences be damned. I threw my elbow back into his gut with as much force as I could muster. The impact jolted the blade across my throat, a warning bite, but Quint only tightened his grip. I could feel him steeling himself.
He was serious.The notion chilled me.
The corners of Corban’s mouth pulled back, cutting farther into his cheeks. “Over you? Of coursssse sssshe would.” He hissed long and loud, his breath steaming in the air as the temperature dropped violently.
Corban struck faster than I could blink. His face turned scaly and ghastly. Long fangs flashed a breath from my own face as he lunged.
I felt Quint’s arms tense for the impact, the one that held the knife jerking violently as I instinctively turned inward, trying to create some space where there was none–
Too slow. I was too slow as Corban ripped Quint away from me. As Quint’s clenched hand ripped a white-hot line across my throat.
Something hot and wet sprayed over the left side of my face as Quint let loose a mangled scream.
I slapped my palm against my neck, but the wetness burst between my fingers.Blood.It was myblood.
Fog floated from my lips as I exhaled sharply, then gasped for air. Air that tasted like metal.
Sounds seemed somehow muffled. Somewhere, it sounded so far away, was the song of metal striking stone.The knife…
There was the briefest sound of a struggle, then an awful, wet tearing sound. Wetness splashed the other side of my face.
My eyes drifted to my right, fixed on the figure hunched over Quint’s body. The figure who had just relieved him of his throat. The figure–
“Corban.” Except I couldn’t get the word out. It felt choked. Why did his name taste so funny?
All fire evaporated from his slitted eyes when Corban lifted his head. He let Quint’s body fall and grabbed hold of me before I could follow suit. He enveloped me, pressing a cold hand to the side of my neck.
“He won’t take you from me,” he said. “Sorcha. Love, look at me.”
Corban’s other hand gripped my chin, dragging my gaze away from Quint’s jerking body. His touch was so very cold and sticky. The rush of an ocean filled my ears. For a brief moment, I felt like I was back in Miami, surrounded by the waves and the noise of the city. That this was all a sick nightmare.
I shut my eyes. They say manifestation can make anything happen if you believe in it strongly enough. I manifested, wished, that I was in the white linen sheets of my bed, in my room overlooking the harbor. That when I opened my eyes, I would see tall glistening skyscrapers. Any moment now I would hear my mother’s condescending tone from somewhere down the hall.
“Sorcha.”
I blinked. I was floating toward a light at the end of a tunnel somewhere high above.
The glow of Corban’s eyes drew me in as he looked down on me. “Let me take you away from this place of darkness. From this nightmare. Will you let me?”
The darkness never left. The rich metallic bubble of blood was still in my nose. Yes. I needed to leave. I needed to get out of there. Get away to some place better. Get away from the violenceand evil that was gripping my soul so hard it would permanently bruise once it released me.
If it ever released me.
I nodded into the hand still pressed against my throat.
“Good girl,” Corban said.
The room slanted as we fled the darkness and turned the corner that led upstairs. I swear I could see a body lying in the hallway. I grabbed the front of Corban’s soaked shirt. Trying desperately to hold onto something. What? I didn’t know.
