Super Dark (Super Dark Trilogy) (34 page)

Stepping away from him, I tried to remain calm. I didn’t want to show how rattled I was.

“Are you okay?” Greg asked, his voice silky sweet. “You’ve gone rather pale.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “You’re right, I think I’ll go sit and down for a while. The wine must have gone to my head.”

“Do you want some coffee? Maybe that will make you feel better.”

“No, I’m fine. You finish up here. I’ll go sit down.”

In a trance, I roamed into the living room and sat rigidly on the edge of the sofa. My body felt stiff with tension, my arms frozen solid.
What the heck is going on?

Five minutes later, Greg sat down next to me. “Feeling any better?” he inquired jovially.

“Um yeah . . .” My voice trailed off.

“You still look a bit peevish. Shall I open the windows to let some air in?”

“No.” I tucked a hair behind my ear, feeling strangely anxious. I wanted him to go, but the words wouldn’t come.

He rubbed his thighs. “Gosh, it’s quiet in here. Shall I put the TV on to liven things up?”

“If you want,” I said.

Until now, I hadn’t noticed his voice at all. He had a slight accent I hadn’t picked up on. Every so often, on certain words, there was a definite twang of something else. An intonation not too different from Elliot’s.

How on earth could I have missed it? Why didn’t I see this before? The two of them are linked in some way. But how?

For several tense moments, the two of us sat staring at the TV, watching some inane cop drama. The temperature in the room was dropping rapidly, and soon my breath became visible in the air. It was sort of like sitting in a giant fridge freezer.
This surely isn’t normal.

And then I got a horrible feeling of déjà-vu—the sense that the dark presence that had been following me all these weeks was finally here. With me. In my living room. I wanted to scream, but my vocal cords were paralyzed. I wanted to run, but my legs had turned to jelly.

“I wonder where your mum is,” Greg mused, shooting me a shifty sideways glance. “It’s been longer than an hour. Do you suppose she’s gotten caught in traffic?”

“I don’t know,” I gulped. “Maybe.”

He reached across and gently stroked the side of my cheek, the heat from his fingertips cutting through the cold like a knife. Slowly, slowly, his hand traveled down my cheek to my jaw and rested at the edge of my chin.

I heard him catch his breath.

“That bruise on your cheek has healed very well, hasn’t it?” he purred.

“Uh-huh.” I bit my tongue to stop myself from screaming. Pursing my lips, I kept my eyes fixed resolutely ahead.

“You’ve been very lucky,” he continued. “That mark could have really ruined your face, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

I shook my head.

He leaned closer, his fingers settling on the skin just beneath my eye. “You really are a pretty girl. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”

I shook my head again.

“So, how’s your boyfriend?”

“What boyfriend?” I asked, puzzled.

“Come on. We both know who I’m talking about.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Don’t lie to me, Sam. I’ve seen you out with him.”

“Seriously, what are you talking about?”

“Oh come, come,” he whispered. “Lying doesn’t suit you. He’s told you, hasn’t he?”

“Told me what?” I was really exasperated now.

“He’s told you what he is.”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, you’ve lost me.”

His voice took on a colder edge. “Let’s cut the crap, shall we?”

Revulsion flooded through me, and I finally mustered the strength to stand. I couldn’t take his pervy mitts on me anymore.

“Look, I think you’d better to go,” I said quietly. “This is getting out of hand.”

Greg rose and started walking swiftly toward me.

“Stay back!” I shouted. But he kept on coming.

I scrambled for the door, tried the handle but found it was jammed, as if by some supernatural force. I tugged desperately on the handle, willing it to open, but it stayed frozen shut. In a blind panic, I turned around—and got the shock of my life.

Greg’s eyes no longer had whites or irises. They were a cold and unnatural yellow with vertical black slits for pupils.
Inhuman
. His head began to bulge and swell and elongate, his nose protruding into a hideous, upturned snout. Bright green fur sprouted out all over his body, and his ears became long and pointed like a jackal’s. On the crest of his head were two brilliantly white horns, like those of a goat, and loose flaps of skin hung around his hideous jaws. His gnarled fingers stretched and grew longer, with serrated nails pushing through the bloody tips to replace the human ones.

I did not move. I couldn’t even breathe or blink as I watched the unspeakable apparition unfold before me. Greg’s face had vanished in a rapid remolding of features, his eyes bulging in a countenance that was quickly losing all trace of humanity, until he was a feral, demonic-looking creature unlike anything I’d ever seen. His appearance was so horrendous, so foul, that the sight of it made me queasy.

Nothing on earth even comes close to this.

Then, with a wicked cackle, he opened his slavering jaws to reveal a double set of ferociously sharp teeth that were bigger than any creature’s I’d ever seen.

I wanted to pass out. I wanted to flee, but I couldn’t. I was rooted to the spot, my stomach churning.

As Greg drew closer, my eyes widened and my breath came out in short, sharp bursts. I’d never been so terrified in my life. The crippling fear seeped through every pore of my soul.

I heard a low, trickling sound.

Glancing down, I realized I’d peed my pants. Greg followed my gaze and leered horribly, watching the urine collect in a steaming hot puddle on the carpet.

He gave a coarse, guttural laugh and reached for me, sweeping me clean off my feet. The strength of his grip was terrifying, his claws so tight I thought he’d snap me in two.

And then he started talking in a deep, throaty voice that seemed to shake the room to its very foundations. “Don’t worry, I’ll make this quick. You won’t suffer for too long, I promise. I think I’m going to enjoy this …”

His fingers tightened around my throat as he shook my body to and fro, choking me slowly, like a rag doll.

And that was when I noticed the mist: a fluorescent purple vapor had begun filtering in under the door, rapidly filling the room in a smog as thick as pea soup. Greg threw me down and took a step backwards, his demonic eyes darting right and left. Within seconds, the mist had cleared and Elliot had materialized with a grim expression on his face.

I gasped for breath, unable to comprehend what was happening.

From my crouching position on the floor, I watched in horror as Greg swung his clawed fist, narrowly missing Elliot’s chin. Elliot staggered back, then caught Greg in a headlock and rammed him into the wall, smashing a hole through the plaster.

I ducked as shards of wood and masonry showered down on me like a hailstorm. Greg quickly recovered and plowed forward; he kicked out at Elliot’s knee, sending him sprawling. Elliot picked himself up and threw a long punch at Greg’s face, which the monstrous creature dodged. In retaliation, Greg aimed a kick at Elliot’s ribs, but missed. Elliot danced back and lunged forward, knocking his opponent to the ground with a powerful uppercut.

I winced.

Elliot rained blow after blow down on Greg’s head, his fists moving at the speed of lightning. I heard the pounding of flesh against flesh, a muffled, wet sound that made me feel sick. For a second, Greg’s body lay motionless, as if he’d been knocked out. But Elliot knew better. He snatched up one of the dining chairs and smashed it over Greg’s head just as he was attempting to stand. The body lay there motionless, covered with splinters, as Elliot took a second to catch his breath.

Then another astonishing thing happened. Greg vanished into thin air.

I rubbed my eyes and blinked, unable to believe what I’d just seen.

“Don’t be fooled, he’s still here,” Elliot warned, glancing warily around the room. “He’s pulling one of his tricks.”

My heart thudded as I looked about uneasily.
Greg could be anywhere. Absolutely anywhere.

“Look out!” I screamed as one of the dining chairs lifted and whacked Elliot hard over the head, sending him stumbling into the TV. With a cry of pain, he picked up the set and hurled it in the general direction of the dining table. The TV exploded against the door and lay in a tangled heap of wires on the floor.

Staggering, Elliot took a couple of faltering steps toward me. Suddenly, I felt hot breath against my face and a vice-like grip closing around my throat as an invisible force pulled me back against something hard.

“Stay back or the girl gets it,” Greg’s voice hissed. “Make one move and I’ll break her neck, I swear it.”

Elliot hesitated, his blue eyes staring at something beyond me that neither of us could see. He tilted his head and squinted, like he was trying to work out Greg’s line of vision.

“Let her go,” he bellowed. “Let her go
now
.”

“No, I’m having way too much fun,” Greg chuckled, and I felt his grip tighten on me like the coils of an anaconda.

I sucked in a deep breath, my cheeks puffed out in excruciating pain. I couldn’t see straight. “P-please, he’s c-choking me. Do something!”

Elliot lunged forward and the two of them grappled on the floor with me caught in the middle. Somehow, Elliot wrenched me out and I rolled across the carpet like a skittle. Blinking rapidly, I watched from the ground as he kicked and punched and struggled with an invisible force. Then he released all his coiled-up power and swung a blow that sent the sofa smashing into the far wall, presumably with Greg attached. There was a loud groan and a piercing crack that indicated a snapped bone.

I balled up in a fetal position, not able to move or think.

I watched as Greg’s body materialized from the ether, flickering on and off like a faulty hologram projection. Moaning with pain, he stumbled to his feet.

“Muzas gost,” Elliot boomed. “Ra cheeba meint golab.”

A stream of saliva trickled from Greg’s hideous jaws and his tongue lolled to the side in an impish smile. “Ra cheeba zool gorzarn ra,” he replied. Then, with a demonic growl, he ran at Elliot again, his head bowed like a bull charging at a matador.

Elliot darted back and caught Greg in a headlock. They struggled for a moment, and then in one swift move, he lifted the creature clean off the ground and, using all his strength, slammed it onto the dining table.

Glass shattered and went flying everywhere. I could hear heavy breathing and moans of pain. Then … silence.

Greg’s body lay rigid on the floor, the Venus de Milo candle holder sticking up though his chest like a sword. It had pierced him when he landed. Now a gooey, translucent liquid was gushing from the wound. Greg—that thing, that creature—was dead.

I stared and stared, my lips quivering with horror. This was like some awful nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

My eyes widened as Greg’s body started to disintegrate. Within seconds, all that remained of him was a pile of green ash and a heap of soiled clothing.

Greg had been slain by the Venus de Milo: the goddess of love. The same Venus he had used to worm his way into my mother’s heart.

Oh the irony.

I blinked twice and felt the blood rushing to my face. It was so unreal, I had to pinch myself to be sure that I wasn’t dreaming. I felt like I’d stepped into a horror film.

“Are you okay?” Elliot asked softly, turning to me. He held out his hand.

“Stay away!” I squealed, shrinking back.

“Sam, please. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Stay away, stay away!” I grew hysterical, my body convulsing from shock. “Don’t you dare come near me.”

A pained expression shadowed his lovely features. “Sam, please. Don’t do this to me.”

I stumbled to my feet and started backing away from him, moving toward the door.
I have to get away from him.

“Can’t we talk about this?” he pleaded.

“Stay back!”

Turning sharply, I reached the door—but I’d forgotten it was shut tight. Like a fool, I tripped and fell headfirst into the rock solid mahogany, knocking myself out.

F
IFTEEN

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