As soon as the vibrations began rippling through the concrete floor, Drake thought about making his exit. Before he could leave, though, he felt a buzzing in his left ear that turned into a high-pitched whine. He looked over to Bits and Bytes, who sat in the far corner of the room recording the procedure, but he failed to catch their eye.

The whining intensified until it became unbearable. Reaching into his ear, he plucked out the blocking device and held it between his thumb and forefinger. It looked the same as it always did. The whining stopped but was immediately replaced by an invasion of a different sort.

Drake looked at the gurney and saw Salem’s eyes fluttering. “Fuck,’ he managed to say before she wormed inside his head.

***

Now that she knew there was a device in place to keep her out, Salem found it easy to bypass it. She wanted to scream for joy when Drake took it out, but she focused on the task at hand, which was to find an energy source that would bring her out of her fugue state. Hate was a great source of energy, and she figured that Drake had plenty to spare.

She wasn’t wrong.

Salem slipped inside his head and accessed a lifetime of memories. She saw wars and bloodshed, savagery and pain, all delivered by Drake’s hand. She flipped through his catalog of atrocities, sucking in the hate of the man and the fear of his victims, all of it fueling her and making her stronger.

She wormed in deeper, flipping the memories faster and faster, so much so that she almost passed the most important of all. Reaching back, she saw Drake step out of the car, saw him walk behind Terry and Craig and saw him put bullets in the back of their head.

All pretense of unconsciousness ended at that point.

Salem let loose a scream as she pulled the needles from her arms, her blood still leaking from the holes. She stayed inside Drake’s mind as she leaped off the gurney and went to stand before him.

She heard guns cocked and fingers falling on triggers. They became nothing more than a hollow echo as she slowed the world down and stood before Drake, whose face was carved in a rictus of fear.

“You should be afraid,” Salem whispered in his ear before making the mark of the cross on his body and turning back to take in the rest of the room, swatting away the bullets that moved slowly through the air.

It was then that she noticed Thorn standing on his bed, moving at normal speed as he tore the mask away from the ruined side of his face, which was now reptilian in appearance.

“Say hello to Daddy,” Thorn said, flicking out a barbed tongue that split down the middle and went off in different directions, as though possessing a mind of its own.

Salem looked beyond the billionaire, who was continuing to evolve before her eyes, to try and see what was going on with Raven. Her mother was still out cold, the excess gas she consumed keeping her under.

A scream echoed around the room as bone tore free of Thorns’ skull. On one side of his head, a horn, like that of a bull broke loose while a half rack of antlers burst free on the other side.

Deciding that it was time to speed things up again, Salem rose her hands to set time straight but paused for a moment when she saw muzzle flashes appear on the guns held by the security guards. In low motion, it looked as though they were holding sparklers, and Salem thought it looked almost pretty.

She followed the slow track of the bullets and saw that they were all headed to the point where she previously stood, right in front of Drake.

With a wave, she returned things to normal speed, flinching as the sound of gunfire joined in with Thorn’s screams in a hellish chorus.

Salem turned in time to see Drake’s body slice apart down the middle and across the shoulders in the mark of the cross she had left. Each of the pieces were torn to shreds by the hail of bullets as they fell to the ground and piled up like dead meat in an abattoir.

The guards all looked confused for a split second, wondering where their target had gone and why their leader was now nothing more than torn flesh and bones. Their training kicked in quickly though, and they all turned their weapons on Salem as she covered the space between herself and Thorn in lightning speed.

“Lay down your weapons,” the billionaire yelled.

The men turned to face him and looked horrified at what they saw. Thorn was not a pretty sight at the best of times, but he was now something torn from the pages of a nightmare novel. Besides the lizard face and crown of horns, he also had gills on his neck and a torso that looked like that of a bodybuilder. His arms were sinewy and slender, ending in oversized hands tipped with razor sharp claws. Thorns legs were thick and muscular with cloven hooves for feet.

Salem hit the floor and slid under Thorn’s bed at the same time the guards all dropped their weapons. She came out the other side, close to Raven’s gurney and stood quickly, almost ripping her skin on the spikes that jutted out of Thorn’s back.

“Where are you going, little one?” Thorn asked as he jumped off the bed, his hooves raising sparks as they contacted the floor.

Never taking her eyes off the man, Salem pointed at the guards, the medical team, and Bits and Bytes, and said, “Sleep.” They all dropped to the ground as she made it to her mother’s side.

“You got what you wanted. All I ask is that you let me walk out of here with my mother. I won’t hurt you if you do that.”

Thorn looked at her for a moment, his yellow eyes flitting left and right, and then he threw back his head and laughed.

“Oh, child. Do you really believe you can hurt me now? You and I were meant to be. Don’t you see that? Think of the children we could bring into this world. An unbeatable army.” His tongue flicked out quickly and licked Salem’s neck, leaving a trail of sticky drool.

Swallowing down the rising bile, Salem wiped her neck and shook the thick mucus from her fingers. She needed time to think. “What about Raven?”

“What about her? She is obsolete.”

“Not true,” Salem said. “Your transformation only came with blood from us both. You still need her.”

“Look at me,” Thorn said, spreading his arms. “I am a finished work of art. I need nothing more from her. You, though, are the golden child. What wonders we will accomplish together.”

Mother, please wake up. I need you. I NEED YOU.”

The internal scream seemed to do the trick, as Raven’s eyes began to flutter open.

Share

Salem kept one eye on the door and another one on the overhead vents. Given the speech that Thorn had given on his earlier visit, she believed the chances of him popping in again were slim. The more likely scenario was that they would drop the gas without giving any prior notice.

She twirled the two pieces of fabric from her mother’s dress into balls, rolling them around between her thumb and forefinger as she waited, each second ticking by ever so slowly.

Raven lay on the cot, her breath shallow, her eyes glazed over as she kept her eye on the vents.

“Are you ready?” Salem asked. She almost posed the question again before noticing the very slightest of nods from her mother.

Without warning, the light above the door turned green while a hissing sound echoed around the cell from overhead.

“Do it,” Raven said.

Salem sucked in her breath and closed her eyes, feeling everything begin to slow down. Once she felt it go as slow as she could make it, she opened her eyes and pushed the pieces of fabric as far into her nose as they would go.

On the cot, Raven’s lips were pursed as she sucked in the air from within the cell. The wisps of gas formed little funnel clouds that drifted lazily down to her mouth and nose, disappearing as they got there.

Salem’s eyes watered and despite her best efforts, she could feel the gas beginning to do its thing. She slowed her breathing even further and fell to the floor as she returned the world to normal speed.

She felt as though she were on the brink of a deep sleep, the voices from outside the cell echoing and seeming to come from a great distance. She felt weak, but not completely out of it, which was exactly where she wanted to be.

Through narrowed eyes, she saw Drake standing with men in lab coats, all of them wearing gas masks.

“They are out. Cleanse the cell,” Drake called out in a voice that seemed impossibly deep and distorted.

The men moved around like shadow people seen during sleep paralysis, opening the door to the cell and loading Raven onto the gurney. For a moment, Salem felt as though she were floating, but she was still with it enough to know that she was being carried.

She willed her heat to remain slow and steady, her breathing shallow, as they wheeled her down the corridor to the operating room. It felt as though she were being pushed through water, and it became difficult to stay awake. Some gas had leeched into her system and was doing its best to put her under. She fought to stay as alert as possible, hopefully enough to do some damage.

***

Thorn sat up on the bed and watched as wheeled in the witch and his daughter. He was struck by how beautiful they both were and imagined what life might be like if they were a normal family unit. He was not a man prone to sentimentality, so he quickly cast the notion aside.

His thoughts turned to Drake and his resignation. Thorn knew that he should have the man killed, but what was the point? There were a hundred Drakes out there, ready to obey and kill for their share of the almighty. Graves had already accepted the position of head of security and would begin with the delivery of the Wenlutah. It was shaping up to be a very good day.

Thorn’s train of thought was broken by Bloom, who placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you ready, sir?” he asked, his voice muffled by a surgical mask.

Looking at the gurneys on either side of him, Thorn looked closely at the two women. “They are out?” he asked.

“Like a light, sir. We will continue to monitor their vital signs and administer anesthetic as needed.”

“What do you need from me?”

“Just lay back and relax,” Bloom said, lowering the bed to horizontal using a remote. “You are going to feel a little pressure on your arms. That’s just the needles being inserted. Can I offer you a light sedative?”

“Do I look like a child at his first dentist visit? No sedative, doc. I want to be awake for this.”

Closing his eyes, Thorn relaxed and listened to the sounds of his medical team at work. Try as he might, sleep came, and he drifted off.”

***

“Mother, can you hear me?”

Salem sent out the signal, but she knew it was weak, knew that Raven was not receiving. She could feel her strength ebbing away and for the first time since Thorn’s people arrived at her house, she felt real fear.

She could feel her heart rate begin to climb, and she fought to control it.

“Keep an eye on the young one. Hear rate is fluctuating,” Bloom said.

“Should I deliver the anesthetic?”

She heard people move around the gurney, checking the machines hooked to her arm. Slow, slow, slow.

“Looks like a blip. She’s out. Hold the anesthetic for now,” Bloom said.

Rolling her head slowly to the side, Salem opened her mouth and allowed a trail of drool to escape, trying to lend to the illusion that she was completely out for the count. She cracked her eyes open and took in as much as possible although it looked as though she were seeing her surroundings underwater.

A plastic tube led from her arm to a large glass container sitting above Thorn’s bed. A similar tube led from her mother’s arm while a pair of tubes were hooked up to Thorn.

“Are we ready?” she heard the doctor say.

“Whenever you are,” another voice responded.

“Then please begin.”

Salem felt a pinching sensation on her arm and then saw her blood begin to flow up the tube and into the glass container, mixing with that of her mother.

The mixed blood swirled inside the container, turning from red to a deathly shade of black. Salem felt the floor begin to vibrate as the doctor opened a valve that allowed the ichor to run free into the veins of Thorn, whose good eye shot open and began to turn black.

Salem breathed in and out slowly, turned her head to the other side of the bed, and focused on Drake.

“Let’s see what’s inside that head of yours.”

Share

Drake sat in his quarters and sipped on a glass of bourbon. He swallowed the last of the alcohol, savoring the taste before setting down the empty glass.

Donning a pair of glasses, he picked up the legal pad sitting by his side and read over his resignation letter. Drake wasn’t entirely sure that his job was one that required any type of traditional two-week notice, but he was a stickler for formality.

He read the letter one more time, making a couple of changes before finally feeling satisfied with the final draft. He tossed the pad aside and flipped open his laptop, opening up Word. He typed up the finished letter, printed it off, and signed it before folding it up and slipping it into his jacket.

Drake wasn’t sure how Thorn would react to the resignation, or whether he would even let him out alive. Drake knew where all the bodies were buried and had enough dirt on Thorn to ruin the man or to blackmail him for a ridiculous amount of money. He has no inclination to do either of those things. The truth was that if he tried to incriminate his boss, he would be opening up a can of worms for himself. Drake also had more than enough money to live a very decent life for the rest of his day. Getting out now was all about survival.

He had always believed Thorn to be borderline insane, but the man’s obsession with his daughter was particularly disturbing to Drake. He also had to admit that he was more than a little afraid of the girl, afraid of what she might do when she found out about her boyfriend. Drake wanted no part of any of that.

Refilling his glass, Drake leaned back on his leather couch and closed his eyes. Sleep did not come often because that usually meant that nightmares followed. That time, though, it came easily enough.

***

The powerchair whirred quietly as Thorn followed Dr. Bloom around the large surgery as he droned on about the dangers of the upcoming transfusion. Thorn tuned him out and thought about how he would feel once the blood of Raven and Salem flowed through his veins.

He interrupted the doctor, who was in the middle of a lecture about the different blood types. “Are you sure you can keep the girls under for the duration of the transfusion? My girl is a little feisty.”

“Not a problem at all, sir. You bring them to me knocked out, and I’ll make sure they stay that way until the procedure is complete.”

Thorn grinned as he left the operating theater, believing it would be the last time he left the room under the power of anything other than his own two feet.

***

When Salem awoke, the first thing that she noticed was the lack of guards. The room was not completely empty, but the large security team was down to two men, who hopped to attention when she sat up in the cot.

She shuffled over to the bucket and stared down the two remaining men. “A little privacy please.”

The men glanced at one another, trying to make a decision. When Salem dropped her camo pants and squatted over the bucket, they turned away, the younger of the two looking suitably embarrassed.

Her business done, Salem returned to the bed and sat down facing the door, waiting for the red light to turn green. She didn’t have to wait long.

Salem nudged her mother as the wheel on the door began to spin, the light changing color moments before the door swung open, revealing Thorn, Drake, and the rest of the security team.

Sitting up, Raven rubbed at her eyes and scowled as she caught sight of the group. “He’s so fucking smug. I can’t wait to wipe that smile off his face.

“Good morning, ladies. You won’t know it from your current location, but it’s a beautiful day. One might say a perfect day for an awakening.”

Drake listened to the man talking and frowned, unconsciously touching his jacket to make sure that the resignation letter was still there.

Thorn maneuvered his chair to the edge of the platform upon which the cell rested, a pair of guards walking alongside. “Would you like to take a shot at breaking the glass before I tell you what is going to happen today?”

“I’m saving my strength, so I can break you,” Salem said, a look of fierce determination etched on her face.

Ignoring the jab, Thorn pointed to the roof of the cell. “In a couple of hours, we will be delivering another round of gas that will have you both napping like babies in seconds. Once that is complete, you will be transported to my medical team down the hall, where I will have your blood pumped into my veins. I shall be reborn.”

“What about us?” Raven asked.

Thorn pondered the question, circling the cell as he sought the answer. “I do enjoy having you both in my life, but I’m not sure I need you. If the transfusion works as expected, I may have to bid you both farewell.

“Then you had better hope that your gas and your medical team can keep me under because I am not going down without a fight.”

“I do so love your spirit. I shall miss it.” Thorn wheeled away and motioned one of the guards to open the exit door. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I’m off to see a man about a Wenlutah.”

They watched him go, cursing him as the light above the door turned from green to red.

“Any plans?” Raven asked.

Salem looked up at the vents blowing in the air. “I don’t know. Maybe. Tell me what you think about this?”

***

Drake jogged up beside the powerchair and placed his hand on his boss’ shoulder. “Can we talk?”

“Can it wait?” Thorn sighed.

Reaching into his jacket, Drake handed over the letter. “Not really, no.”

The billionaire quickly scanned the page, looked up at the ceiling, and then read it again. “Is this some kind of joke, Lionel.”

“No, sir. That clusterfuck on Alcatraz made it clear that I’m not the man I used to be. I’d rather walk away while I still have the chance.”

“When do you want to leave?”

“Immediately, sir.”

Thorn tucked the letter between his leg and the side of the powerchair. “That’s not going to happen, I’m afraid. I want you there for the procedure. After that, you are free to go.”

Drake was stunned, expecting an outright refusal or a bullet in the head. “I can recommend a replacement if you wish.”

“That won’t be necessary, Lionel. I’m thinking of asking that Graves fellow to come on board. No offense, but he strikes me as a tad more ruthless than you. That may be what I need going forward.”

“Do you still want me to handle the Wenlutah transfer with Graves?”

“No, I’ll do it. Tell the doctors to prepare for the transfusion and then wait until it is complete. I’ll put a little something in your bank account as a thank you for being a loyal servant.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Thorn sped off without saying another word, his security detail jogging beside him.

Drake watched them go before seeking out Bloom. The sooner they got this shit over with, the sooner he could get out of town.

Subscribe now

Share

Thorn shook his head and held up a hand, stopping the man in the lab coat in mid-sentence. “Hold on, doc. Run that by me again, only this time imagine that I am a blithering idiot. Talk to me in layman’s terms, if you will.”

Tapping at his laptop, the doctor turned it so that Thorn could see the video, which had been paused, on the screen.

“Is this the blood tests?”

“Yes. As you already know, sir, we already have plenty of samples from Raven. We have been testing those for years, looking for a way to deliver a transfusion that will bring you the, uh, the desired results you are looking for.”

“Okay, go on.”

“We have only recently started testing the samples from your daughter and given that you are both the same blood type, the assumption was that her plasma would be a much better fit for you.”

Sighing in agitation, Thorn said, “Are you telling me that she’s not.

“No, sir, that’s not what I am saying at all.”

Moving his powerchair closer to the desk where the laptop sat, Thorn stared at the paused video image. “Then what is it you want to show me.”

“As I previously explained…”

“Keep it simple, I’m warning you. I don’t have time to listen to medical mumbo jumbo.”

“Of course. One of my assistants had the idea of seeing what might happen if we combined the blood of the mother and daughter. Specifically, we were looking for some type of reaction.”

“Who is this assistant?”

A young blond-haired man stepped forward with his hand raised. He looked like he had just crawled out of a dumpster, his hair shooting off in all directions and his lab coat dotted with unrecognizable stains.

Thorn gave him the once over. He thought about lecturing the kid on personal hygiene, but he decided to stick to business. “What’s your name, son.”

“Luke Robson, sir.”

“I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new?”

“Yes, sir. Dr. Bloom hired me as his intern just recently.

Thorn rolled his eyes, finding it hard to believe that some punk ass kid working for nothing would deliver a major breakthrough. “I see. And where did you get the idea for mixing the blood?”

The lab assistant adjusted his sweat stained collar and flushed a bright shade of red. “Um, from the movies, sir.”

“The movies?” Thorn asked indignantly.

“Yes. Specifically, The Thing. There is a scene where they test the blood to see who might be harboring the alien DNA, the thought being that…”

“I’ve seen the movie,” Thorn said. “Please just tell me what happened when you combined the two samples.”

“I can show you,” Bloom said, pressing play on the video.

Thorn watched his medical team going through their paces, doing God only knows what with the samples. It was all rather dull and dreary stuff until they dropped a sample of both Raven and Salem’s blood into a Petrie dish.

The two drops sat in their respective spots, but as Thorn watched, they began to move toward one another before meeting and mixing. The combined blood turned from crimson red to onyx in the blink of an eye, and then shot up in the air and out of sight of the camera.

Bloom hit the pause button.

“What happened, where did it go?”

The doctor pointed up to the lab’s ceiling to a large hole that looked fried around the edges.

“The blood did that? Thorn asked.

Bloom nodded. “Needless to say, we called you as soon as it happened.”

The billionaire gaped at the hole and then reached out and restarted the video, watching it a few more times before pressing stop. “My God.”

“My sentiments exactly, sir. The easiest way I can put it is that their blood is stronger together.”

“I want units of both inside me, do you understand.”

“I’m not sure that’s wise. You saw the reaction. We have no idea what it might do to your body.”

Thorn looked back at the hole one more time. “You let me worry about that.”

At first glance, the circular cell looked like an overblown killing jar. The glass was thicker than the previous cell and completely bulletproof, tempered steel on top house a series of small pipes that could pump in air or gas, as needed.

It sat on a platform in the middle of an otherwise bare room ringed by security guards, all of whom had their weapons out, aimed at the cell.

Raven and Salem sat on the wide cot that took up most of the space. The only other item in the cell was a metal bucket serving as a toilet. The women had lost latrine rights after the incident in their previous cell.

Raven looked around the space for the umpteenth time, looking for some flaw that she could expose and take advantage of. There was nothing. She brushed her hands against her daughter’s fingers, the tips of which were still stained blood red. “How are you feeling?”

“Why didn’t you help me?” Salem asked.

“What?”

“The glass was breaking. If you had helped, we would be out now.”

Hanging her head, Raven mumbled an apology. “It happened so quickly. Perhaps my instincts have been dulled after being a prisoner for so long.”

“They weren’t so dull when you broke out the first time.”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, both watching the door sitting opposite their cell. It looked like the entrance to a bank vault, complete with a wheel-type lock in the middle and a light overhead, which was currently a blazing shade of red.

Salem let loose a sigh and grabbed her mother’s hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t blame you.”

“No, you have every reason to. I was slow to react.”

“Do you think we’ll get another chance?”

“To escape?”

“Yes.”

Raven turned to face her daughter. “Let me ask you this. If we did get out, what would you do?”

The question took Salem by surprise, as freedom was not something that she had given much thought in her short time as Thorn’s prisoner. She shook her head. “I don’t know, honestly. I’d find Terry and try and get our perfectly ordinary life back.”

Raven grunted. “That’s something you think you could do now that you know your powers?”

Salem thought back to the hours before her life had changed. How happy she had been with her little family. She wondered where Terry was now, feeling a knot in her belly at the thought of him being somewhere alone and afraid. Her mind then drifted to Selina and Craig, the people she thought of as her parents for her entire life. The anger she had felt at them once they revealed their true identity was now turning to grief. It hurt that she would never see them again, would never get to say a proper goodbye.

She suddenly realized just how tired she was, and looking at the blood that stained her clothes, how beaten down she felt.

“Yes, I think I could. What about you?”

“I’m tired of running and hiding. I think perhaps it’s time to go on the offensive.” Raven’s eyes came to life as she spoke. “The world is a shitty place full of even shittier people. You and I, we could change that.”

“How so?” Salem asked, beginning to feel a little afraid.

“Think about what we could do, the havoc we could cause. You, child, are so much stronger than me, but together, out there in the world, we could rule.”

Salem put her hand to her mouth, snorting as she laughed. “We barely made it out alive the last time.”

“How long have you known about your powers?”

“A couple of days.”

“And yet you are a force of nature. Imagine what you could be with a little push from your mother. We could conquer entire nations.”

Pushing away from her mother, Salem walked over to the glass and looked out at the men guarding their cell. The one’s she made eye contact with placed their fingers on the triggers of their guns ready to shoot, even though they were aware that the bullets would not penetrate the glass.

Salem saw fear in the eyes of each of them, and while she felt a certain satisfaction at seeing them scared, deep inside, she knew that willfully killing hordes of humans and destroying the world she knew was not something that was in her nature.

“Do you hear me, child?”

“I do, but that is not something I want.”

“Who doesn’t want to use their powers to rule and conquer?” Raven asked.

“People who are good.”

“I don’t know any of those people,” Raven scoffed.

“You know me.”

The tough expression on Raven’s face softened upon hearing her daughter’s words.

“How about we make a deal?”

“What’s that?” Raven asked.

“We use any means necessary to get out of here, after which we can figure out the future.”

Standing, Raven held out her arms, inviting Salem in for an embrace. “Deal,” she said.

Snuggling against her mother, Salem felt their hearts beat in perfect time. She felt the anger and frustration of the last few days begin to melt away, and it felt good. “I’ll tell you one thing, though, Mother, world domination is not on the list of options.”

Share Watson's House of Horrors

Subscribe now

The powerchair moved slowly down the long hallway as Thorn stopped to admire his collection, cooing and throwing treats as he passed by each cell.

“I hate that man,” Salem said.

“The feeling is mutual, child.”

Stopping a few feet in front of the glass, Thorn turned and said something to Drake, who tapped at a device trapped to his wrist.

The exterior sounds filled the cell, making Salem jump at clutch at her chest. Raven stood still, staring down her captor.

“Good evening. How are my two favorite ladies doing?”

The women stood in silence, both reaching out to one another to hold hands.

“How precious is that scene, Lionel? We have some family bonding going on. I wonder if Daddy is invited. What do you think?” Thorn said.

“I’m not sure it’s a party you’d want to attend, sir.” Drake replied dryly.

Thorn wheeled a little closer and stuck out his bottom lip. “You both look so very sad in there. Raven, I see your pretty dress is torn. I’ll have something new ready for you when I let you out.” He turned his attention to Salem. “You, my dear, are quite beautiful. Other than the hair, I do think you favor your daddy.”

Salem clenched her fist, her nails digging into the palm of her hand and drawing blood. She tried to fight down the anger, but she could feel it building, getting ready to blow.

“Hmm, not very talkative today, are we. How about I take over and explain what is going to happen next. Does that sound good?”

The women remained silent.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes. I’m not sure how much Mommy dearest has told you about her time here, so let me fill you in.”

“I am going to kill you,” Raven said.

“I’m not exactly sure how that is going to happen, dear. I do believe that ship has sailed. But as you can see, I am talking to our daughter, so if you would kindly play the dutiful wife and shut your fucking mouth, I’d be much obliged.”

Drake placed his hand on the butt of his gun as Salem stepped forward, a look of pure rage etched on her face.

Thorn, unfazed, continued. “As I was saying, Salem, I have a little ritual that I enjoy partaking in with each of my guests. You might call it their thank you for my giving them room and board.”

A thin trail of blood fell from Salem’s left nostril, all the way down over her lips and chin before dripping onto her shirt.

The men behind Drake took a backward step, one of them turning to look back the way they had come.

“Hold your positions,” Drake hissed.

“Well, would you look at that,” Thorn said, pointing at Salem. “It looks like you may have already got the memo and are preparing your blood gift.”

Raven tore a strip of fabric from her ruined dress and held it up to her daughter’s face, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Shrugging her mother away, Salem took a step forward, her gaze fixated on a spot in the middle of the glass. Blood flowed like a geyser from her nose, and as she blinked, more began to run from her eyes.

“Make it stop, Raven screamed.”

“Not yet, dear. This is just beginning to get interesting,” Thorn said. “Whatever are you trying to do, sweet Salem?”

She began to tremble, the shuddering movements of her body sending blood flying onto the glass. As it hit, a chip appeared dead center, like the mark left from a pebble striking a car windshield.

“That’s not good,” Drake said.

Salem shook more violently, turning the chip into a crack that looked like a lightning bolt etched into the glass.

“Sir, if she gets out, we are all fucked,” Drake said, tapping the awestruck billionaire on the shoulder.

“How wonderful,” Thorn whispered.

The crack stretched from corner to corner, the glass seeming to warp under the stress. Blood seeped into the break and took on a life of its own, creating smaller fissures off the main crack.

Spreading her arms wide, eyes rolled back in her head, Salem began to chant in a long dead language. The cracks spread further, like serpents rising under the call of a snake charmer.

“Hit the gas,” Thorn said. “Hit it now.’

Hands trembling, Drake punched in a code and watched as the cell began to fill with a misty cloud. Raven dropped instantly, but Salem stood for a moment, staring her captors down while continuing to speak in tongues. The glass warped once more, another large crack appearing before she tumbled to the floor.

“What the fuck was that?” Drake asked.

“That, Lionel, was the key to unlocking all my powers. I need her blood. Tell the medical team that we are moving up the transfusion.”

“Done,” Drake responded.

“Oh, and have those two moved to the new cell by the lab. “There will be no escaping that one.”

The men cleared a path for Thorn as he turned his powerchair towards the exit, this time moving much faster than he did upon arrival.

As they cleared the guard station and arrived at the elevator, Drake radioed for assistance. He sure as shit wasn’t about to open that cell door and move the women on his own.

Share

It was strange for Raven to occupy her cell with someone else after so many years spent in solitude. That it was her daughter who lay beside her on the bed was an added bonus.

She stroked the girl’s hair and thought of reaching inside her mind to see her dreams and learn more about her life. It would be easy to do, but Raven also felt that it would be a terrible invasion of privacy. Better to wait for Salem to wake and then talk. There was certainly much to discuss.

She rose from the bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping daughter, and walked over to the thick glass panel at the front of the cell. She placed her hands on the glass, turned her head, and moved her ear close, hoping to catch some sound bleeding in from outside.

There was nothing.

Raven turned around and slid to the ground, her back resting against the glass. She sat and watched her daughter sleep, amazed at how much the girl looked like her. She took great relief in seeing none of Thorn’s features poke through. Having any of his likenesses show up would have been akin to seeing a tear on the canvas of a masterpiece.

Time ticked slowly past, the shallow breathing of Salem the only sound to fill the space. Even the water in the toilet tucked away in the corner of the cell had ceased to drip the way it always used to. It seemed odd to Raven that someone would take the time to fix the plumbing in the short time that she had been gone. Thorn was indeed a peculiar, little man.

She thought of the man who had fathered her child and could feel her blood begin to boil. Anger had been her downfall so many times, but Raven had failed to rein it in, choosing instead to unleash it in displays of power and strength that only ever led to trouble. Perhaps her child could teach her restraint.

Salem began to stir once more, turning over in the bed and throwing the covers off her body. “Too hot,” she mumbled.

Raven went to her side and pushed Salem’s hair away from her face. Feeling how hot and clammy the girl was, she moved to the sink beside the toilet and held her hands under the cold water, keeping them until her fingers went numb. Returning to the bed, she dabbed at Salem’s face and kept her wet hands in place when she tried to squirm away.

Caring for anyone other than herself was something foreign to the witch, yet it felt natural now. Raven didn’t believe that the girl needed her, such was her power, but she hoped that Salem would want her help. The thought of not having the child at her side now brought an almost unbearable pain to her gut.

Feeling as though her heart might explode if she continued to look at her daughter, Raven went back to the sink and wetted her hands once more. When she turned around, Salem was sitting up in bed, staring out through the glass.

“How do you feel?” Raven asked.

“Angry, but mostly thirsty.

“I can help with that.” Cupping her hands under the faucet, Raven scooped up a handful of water and walked carefully back to her daughter, determined not to spill a drop.

Salem lapped up the water and gasped as she wiped away the excess from her chin.

“More?” Raven asked.

“Please.”

After two more trips, Salem raised her hand.

“That’s good. Thank you.”

Raven wiped her hands on her tattered dress.

“Anything for you, child.”

The girl turned away, as though embarrassed at the attention. “Are we back…is this where Thorn kept you imprisoned.”

“It is.”

With a sigh, Salem turned and faced her mother. “How could you stand it? This place is, well, it’s awful.”

The witch stood and moved to the front of the cell, staring off down the long, bricked corridor. She tried to see beyond the bars of the cells that lined either side, but the creatures contained within were playing shy and lurking in the corners of their personal prisons. “I imagined killing him,” she finally said.

“Thorn?”

“Yes, and whichever fools he brought with him on his daily visits. I imagined slowly stripping the flesh from their bodies or tearing off their genitals and forcing them to eat. I imagined a thousand ways to torture them before killing them as they begged for mercy.”

Salem pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around herself, suddenly feeling very cold again.

Catching the movement in the reflection of the glass, Raven turned to her daughter. “Do I horrify you?

“No.” Salem pulled the blanket tighter and closed her eyes. “Before all of this, the idea of intentionally hurting anyone would have horrified me, but Thorn is a man that is easy to hate.”

Raven hung her head, her red hair dropping across her face like a blood waterfall. “It is others who have made me as I am. Their lies condemned me to a life on the run, always fearing for my life.”

Salem patted the mattress beside her. “You promised to tell me about your life. Will you do it now?”

The witch sighed. “I’m not sure where to begin, or what to tell.”

“Let’s start with the highlights. How about that?”

“If you wish.” Raven moved to the bed and sat beside her daughter, who stretched out her arm and pulled her close under the blanket.”

“How about you begin by telling me your name and where you were born.”

“I was born the youngest of three girls on a small house sitting on stilts. My mother died giving birth, cursing me as she drew her last breath. My father, hearing the curse believed that my mother was naming me Baba Yaga, so that is what he called me.”

“When was this?”

Raven held her hands out and shrugged.

“Time means very little when you are granted so much of it. Hundreds of years. Long enough to see empires crumble and to have been both a slave and a queen.”

“A queen?” Salem asked, wide-eyed.

“You won’t find me in any history book. It was a short reign that ended in bloodshed. That is something that has followed me. My whole life, people have wished me dead, including my father.”

“Why would he wish you dead?”

Raven pressed her thumbs into her eyes and sighed heavily. “My father would vanish for days at a time, hunting food and more often than not coming back empty handed and stinking of alcohol. He began to beat me, blaming me for the death of my mother. The truth, though, was that he turned to violence when my hair turned red. His was black as pitch, as was my mother’s. I assume he believed me to be someone else’s child.”

Salem pulled her mother in close, feeling the pain and anger flowing out of her in a torrent. “I’m sorry.”

“One time, when I was around ten or eleven, he went on one of his hunting trips and stayed away longer than usual. My sisters and I were hungry, starving. Ivanna, my oldest sister, succumbed to the hunger, and…and…”

Feeling as though she had taken a blow to the gut, Salem put her hand to her mouth and choked back a sob.”

“Aniya and I had to eat. We didn’t know if father was ever coming back. When he finally did, there was nothing left of Ivanna but bones.” Raven shrugged off the blanket and stood, beginning to pace back and forth. “He threw himself upon me, but before he could land a blow, I threw him across the room simply by thinking about doing it. I tore him limb from limb with my mind, and my sister and I feasted for weeks.”

Sitting slack-jawed, Salem wanted to tell her mother to stop, but she knew that there was no way to end it.

“Aniya grew ill shortly thereafter and passed. I gave her a proper burial. I saw no reason to inflict any more pain on her.” Raven looked at her daughter out the corner of her eye. “The dead still scream.”

“I don’t…”

“Some men, who my father owed money, came looking for him. They found me coated in blood and eating a rabbit that I had caught in the woods. They fled and told everyone that I was eating children. More men came in the night, looking to burn down my home with me inside. No one else came after word spread about how that ended.”

Salem rose from the bed and went to her mother, placing an arm around her shoulder. The witch resisted at first, but then relented and fell into the embrace. “I think that’s enough for today. We have visitors.”

Lifting her head, Raven looked down the hall and saw Thorn approaching, followed by Drake and two other men, all of whom were heavily armed. She hissed as Thorn wiggled his fingers in a wave. “Death is coming, little man. So…much…death.”

Share

Subscribe now

Salem groaned as the fluorescent lights found their way inside her barely open eyes. Her eyelids fluttered as she rolled over and tried to block out the light. She flinched as a hand fell on her shoulder.

“Relax, it’s just me.”

It was a voice she immediately recognized even though she had only ever heard it in her head.

“Mother? Where are we?”

“Rest. We aren’t going anywhere soon.”

Salem wanted to sit up, wanted to talk to her mother, but the light began to fade, and she felt herself drifting off once again.

“Sleep, child.”

***

Angling his powerchair to get a better view of the television, Thorn watched the news report, marveling at how easy it was to change the narrative. Money was the key to controlling the world, and he had plenty of it.

On the TV, a reporter stood on a boat out in the San Francisco Bay, pointing in the direction of Alcatraz.

“Residents of the city were given an early alarm call this morning after an explosion on The Rock. Details are slim, at the moment, but it appears as though there was an incident involving the security team patrolling the island, which is set to undergo renovations. All members of the security team, as well as a pair of San Francisco police officers, and a boat pilot, are presumed dead in the explosion. We will report more details as we get them.”

Thorn hit the mute button on the remote control and turned his chair around, smiling widely at Drake, who sat on a couch at the opposite end of the office.

“How much did that cover up cost?” Drake asked.

“Not as much as you might think. It pays to have people in high places in your pocket.

“All’s well that ends well, I suppose.”

Thorn moved behind his desk and opened his laptop, tapping on the keys and replacing the news report on the TV with his desktop. “I am just getting started, Lionel. Look at those two.”

With a click of a key, Thorn activated the feed showing the cell holding Raven and Salem.

“Don’t you think it’s time to put those two out of their misery?” Drake asked.

The billionaire frowned at the question. “Why would you suggest something so foolish. You have seen what they can do, have you not?”

“I’m wishing I hadn’t at this point. I’ve lost some good people.”

“Replaceable people, Lionel.” Thorn pointed at the TV. “Those ladies cannot be replaced. They are the source of great power, which I believe can be tapped and drained.”

“And transferred to you, right?” Drake finished.

“Indeed. With money comes power, but that power is little more than a low-watt bulb compared to what is inside those two. I want what they have.”

The security man stood and poured himself a drink, taking a slug before he spoke again. “Is this not something you have tried before? Look how that turned out.”

Thorn shook his head. “The girl, my daughter, is the answer. Remember, Lionel, it is partially my blood that runs through her.” He wheeled out into the center of the office and rolled up beside Drake. “It would be easy to suggest that she gets her powers from Raven, but is it not also possible that some comes from me?”

It sounded like the ravings of a madman, but the more Drake thought about it, the more it made sense. “The previous transfusions.”

Thorn thumped the arm of his powerchair and laughed loudly. “Very astute observation. I have pieces of all of my creatures swimming in my DNA. Add the blood of my daughter into the mix, and I may just unlock everything.”

Drake looked up at the television and quickly looked away as he saw Raven staring back at him, as though she could see through the screen and into his soul. He knew that her powers could not touch anyone outside, but he felt a chill, nonetheless. “She is still asleep,” he said, acting as nonchalantly as possible.

“There is no rush. I think we could all use some rest, although you and I do need to talk about what happened on the island.” Thorn said.

Drake swallowed down the last of the bourbon in his glass and grimaced as the liquid burned his throat. “I take full responsibility.”

“Nonsense. I chose the helicopter pilots, and not particularly well, I might add. That crash set off a chain of events that you nor anyone else could have predicted, Lionel.”

“Still, I lost one of my men, plus, we lost most of the assets.”

“A small price to pay to get my ladies back. Think no more of it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Drake said. “What do you need from me next?”

Moving back behind the desk, Thorn unlocked one of the drawers and pulled out a slip of paper. “I have been in contact with our man in Portland.”

“Graves?”

“The very one. He has another Wenlutah lined up and ready to ship. Have Bits or Bytes arrange the transfer of funds, and you set up the details of the transfer with Graves.”

“Consider it done, sir.”

Drake picked up the paper, scanned the contents, and then slipped it into his pocket. “I’ll take care of this immediately.”

“Do it and then take the rest of the day off. I am going to want you by my side when my medical team performs the transfusion.”

Turning for the door, Drake moved to head out the office but then paused. “Can I ask a question?”

“By all means.”

“What if…what if the transfusion works? What then?”

Thorn spread his arms wide. “Then the world is my oyster.”

Share

Subscribe now

“Look out,” Thorn shouted.

“I see it,” the pilot said, banking the helicopter out towards the bay as the other chopper collided with the guard tower. The heat from the explosion passed through the open doors for the aircraft, making the billionaire gasp for breath.

“Did anyone make it out.” Thorn asked, scanning the wreckage for signs of life amid the flames.

“Not that I saw, but one of your creatures went down with it.”

“Which one?”

“Some big thing with antlers. It was hanging off the side. Looked like it had a hold of one of your men.”

Thorn laughed and clapped his hands like a giddy schoolboy. “The Wenlutah. Thank goodness. I have another one of those on the way.”

The pilot shook his head and turned back towards the cloud of black smoke now billowing up from the ground. “That’s going to draw some attention.”

Grabbing his smartphone out of his pocket, Thorn punched in a number and put the phone to his ear. “You are correct. I’ll buy us some time. Keep your eye on what’s happening down there. Get ready to pick up and move.”

***

Drake and his men were pushed backward by the force of the explosion. Peplow went down hard, exhaling loudly as his butt hit the ground.

Stumbling backward, Drake dodged a piece of shrapnel by the barest margin. Anders and the Rake were not so lucky. A piece of the rotor blade sliced the Rake in half as the explosion lifted him off the ground. Another piece of shrapnel connected with Anders’ forehead with the force of a speeding bullet, passing clean through and taking off a large chunk of the back of his head.

Drake and Peplow ran to the side of the guard building and pressed themselves against the concrete wall, hissing as more pieces of the chopper flew past them or landed by their feet.

“What the fuck?” Peplow groaned, watching as the top half of the Rake pulled itself across the ground, trying to reach them.

“To hell with that.” Drake unholstered his sidearm and put a bullet through the creature’s head, stopping it for good.

“What about those orders?” Peplow smirked.

“Fuck that. I’m calling Thorn’s chopper and getting off this fucking rock. If that crusty old fuck wants to give me grief, I still have bullets in this gun that he can argue with.”

“Count me in, brother.”

***

“What happened?” Bits said, patting at his body as though checking to see if he was in one piece.”

“You’re safe,” Salem said, staring at the wreckage of the downed helicopter.

Bytes scrambled to his feet while the pilot and Chalmers looked too dumbfounded to move.

“Something wrong, Bytes?” Salem asked. Before he could respond, she heard the answer in her head. “What did you drop?”

His eyes went wide as he dropped to his knees and began scrambling in the dirt, looking for the blocking device that had fallen from his ear when he hit the ground. “It’s nothing,” he said.

“Oh, it’s something. It’s how you are all able to block me out,” Salem said, reaching down to pluck the small metallic disc from the ground. “Is this what you are after? Of course, it is.”

“It’s not what you think,” Bytes moaned, hands raised in surrender.

Salem placed the device inside her ear.

“Mother, can you hear me?”

Silence. She removed it.

“Mother, can you hear me.”

“Salem, you are alive?”

“Alive and well. Where are you?”

“I’m by the entrance to the old guard building. What about the rest of them?

“One man down from our helicopter. I saved the rest, unfortunately.”

Salem turned her attention to Bytes, who was crying and begging for his life. “Why are you crying?”

“I don’t want to die.”

Salem laughed. “Is that what you think of me? You believe me to be some heartless bitch? I saved your damn life, so why would I kill you now?”

The pilot stood and dusted himself off. “I owe you. What do you want me to do to help?”

“Stay out of my way. Bytes, can these little devices be shut down?” Salem asked, flicking the metallic disc in his direction.

“Not without my laptop,” he replied, staring at the billowing smoke from the crash.

“What about you?” Salem asked Chalmers.

“I’m going to sit the rest of this out if that’s okay with you. That’s quite enough weird shit for one day.”

“I’ll be back for you. I’m going to end this.”

Salem strode purposefully back onto the wharf, heading towards the guard quarters. Anger ate at her insides, her stomach churning as she thought about what Thorn might be hiding from her. With a flick of her hand, she lifted the blazing remains of the helicopter and tossed it out into the bay.

“I see you, child.”

“Who is that with you?”

“The Aswang. I fear she is the only one of my group still alive.”

“You have me, too.”

“Stronger together.”

Salem could see her mother standing in the doorway, the hag creature by her side, sniffing the air as her barbed tongue flicked in and out.

“Yes, stronger, beautiful child. You are a vision.”

As they moved to meet one another, Thorn’s helicopter moved in behind Salem while Drake and Peplow came out from the side of the building, weapons raised and ready to fire on Raven and the Aswang.

Raven reached out and took the creature’s hand, the Aswang instantly taking on her form.

It was enough to make Drake pause for a moment. He had no problems taking down the Aswang, but Raven was a different matter. With Thorn watching it all happen from the inside of a helicopter loaded with all kinds of ammo, he didn’t like his chances of getting out alive if he played the wrong card.

Salem saw the hesitation and raised her hands, ready to take them out, only to feel a sting in her neck and two more in her back.

As she fell to the ground, she spun around and saw Chalmers with his gun still aimed at her.

“I guess I’m a liar,” he said, as he fired once more.

***

“The one on your right is the Aswang, Lionel. Kill it and tranquilize the witch.”

Without giving it a second through, Drake put three darts into Raven before pulling his handgun and emptying the clip into the Aswang.

The creature rolled on the ground, screaming as it changed into many different forms before settling.

“Do not approach it, Lionel. Trust me, she is quite alive. I’ll take care of it in a moment.”

The helicopter touched down and the pilot hustled around the craft and pulled out a ramp built into the cabin. Thorn gave him a little nod as he left the ramp in his powerchair, heading in the direction of the Aswang.

He stopped on his way and reached down to stroke Salem’s hair. “Not much of a fight, little one.”

Bits and Bytes and the other pilot stepped out of their hiding spot, all looking rather sheepish in the presence of their boss.

“Well, what a pleasant surprise,” Thorn said.

“She saved us,” Bits said, nodding at Salem. “But she also knows about the blockers.”

Thorn dismissed the statement with a wave. “None of it matters now.” He turned to the pilot, his expression changing from calm to furious in the blink of an eye. “What happened up there?”

“One of your precious pets attacked my chopper. We’re lucky…”

“Excuse me. Your chopper?” Thorn interrupted.

“You know what I mean, you crazy old fuck.”

Thorn regarded the man for a moment and then turned his powerchair back in the direction of the Aswang. From a sheath on the side of his chair, he pulled out a bolo knife and ran his finger along the blade, hissing as it drew blood.

“Lionel. One more bullet into this hideous beast, please. Oh, and one in the head for that mouthy pilot.”

As the bullet tore through the flesh of the Aswang, Thorn pushed the bolo knife down between its shoulder blades. His eyes lit up as he watched her squirm, rivers of black blood flowing from the wounds. She writhed for a few more seconds before falling still, her withered body sinking in on itself.

“One more for the pilot, remember.”

Drake shrugged and lifted his weapon, shooting the pilot through the head.

“Load up those bitches and come with me in the helicopter. Bits and Bytes will stay behind with your men and arrange a clean-up crew.”

“What about that?” Drake asked, nodding towards the police boat bobbing by the dock.

“I’ve made a call. It’s taken care of. Now, let’s head back and get these two back where they belong. We have some work ahead of us.”

Drake looked around at the mess and wondered how he was getting out alive. “Why did you kill the Aswang?” he asked.

Looking at the shriveled creature, Thorn shrugged. “Easy, really. I didn’t know her long enough to have an attachment. You do know how I love all my children.”

Heading back up the ramp and onto the helicopter, Thorn tapped the pilot on the arm. “As soon as we are loaded up, take me home.”

Share Watson's House of Horrors

Subscribe now

“You should have taken us down there instead of up here,” Thorn yelled. “This is a colossal fuck up, Lionel.”

“With all due respect, sir, had you not come, that would have been the plan.” Drake tapped the pilot on the shoulder and said, “As soon as me, Anders, and Peplow are off this chopper, you start circling again.”

The pilot gave the thumbs up and prepared to lift off again.

“You cannot leave me here,” Thorn protested.

“And I cannot wheel you down there; you wanted to see this shit go down; I’m going to give you the best view in the house.”

The security detail jumped out of the chopper and scampered away from the blades, watching as the helicopter rose into the air.

Drake led the way, kicking in the door to the stairs leading down into the prison and directing his men to follow. “Bits, an update,” Drake yelled into his wireless headset, trying to compete with the sound of the departing helicopter.

He pressed the earpiece tightly into his right ear, but the only thing he heard was static. “We need to move. I think the other group might be in trouble. Eyes open, men. I cannot confirm where these nasty fuckers are until Bits or Bytes fill me in.”

They tore down the stairs, watching for any movement, hoping that the way ahead would be clear.

***

Salem flinched as the tranquilizer gun fired louder than expected. Following the path of the dart, she saw the Wenlutah dodge it in mid-stride, pressing its body lower to the ground, its grasshopper-like back legs bulging with muscles as it prepared to jump.

“Shoot that fucking ugly bitch,” Chalmers screamed as he unhooked his safety harness and turned towards the Madison’s side of the helicopter.

The Wenlutah sprung as the second dart exploded from Madison’s gun. The shot caught it in the antlers and deflected away to safety.

Salem screamed as the creature’s jaws clamped around Madison’s leg. Using its front legs, it gripped onto the helicopter and began to pull itself up, its weight sending the craft into a spin.

The sound of metal-on-metal tore through the morning air as the helicopter’s rear blades caught the top of the guard tower at the far end of the island.

Chalmers turned, wide-eyed, to face Salem. “Do something,” he pleaded as the helicopter spun wildly, the nose beginning to point towards the wharf.

For the slightest moment, Salem felt herself caught in the grip of fear, feeling as though she was Rebecca once more. It was the sound of the pilot screaming that they were all going to die that snapped her back.

She let loose a scream of rage and threw her hands up in the air, feeling the world around her begin to slow down.

Every little detail became astonishingly clear as her senses tuned into the slowed down surroundings.

Salem unbuckled her safety harness and did the same for Bits and Bytes. She then moved through the spray of blood that lazily drifted up from Madison’s leg as it was torn loose by the Wenlutah, the crimson fluid landing gently on her face.

Moving to the front of the helicopter, she unbuckled the pilot and watched for a moment as the ground drew steadily nearer.

As she dragged the pilot into the cabin, she had time to notice Drake and his men just past the guard building, guns raised as they went after the Rake, who was on all fours in mid-stride, a cruel smile on his face as though enjoying the thrill of the chase.

Raising her hands, palms out, Salem made a pushing motion and watched as the four men went flying out of the door of the helicopter. She controlled their movement on the way down, ensuring that they landed in a safe place well away from the impending impact.

While time moved slowly, it did not entirely stop. The ground now seemed impossibly close, and in the time it had taken to get the men out, the Wenlutah had torn open Madison’s belly with blood-soaked claws.

With Madison’s fate sealed, there was nothing to be done but get clear of the earthbound chopper. Salem leaped out the door and drifted to the ground, moving quickly away from the aircraft and over beside her fellow passengers.

With one long exhale, the world returned to normal speed.

***

As they went through the main doors of the prison, Peplow yelled and pointed. “Right there.”

The Rake came around the side of the building and made for the path leading down to the wharf. Drake fired one of his darts, but the speed at which the creature moved made it a target that was impossible to hit.

Anders shouldered his rifle and reached into his holster, pulling out a handgun.

“What are you doing, soldier?” Drake demanded.

“If you two want to try and trank that thing, go right ahead. I’m opting for Plan B.”

“Those are not your fucking orders.”

“Frankly, Drake, I don’t give a flying fuck. Thorn can keep his money. All I want to do is get out of here alive.”

Peplow made as though to follow suit, but he thought better of it. “Let’s get after that thing.”

Drake continued to glare at Anders, but he nodded. “You do not fire those live rounds until absolutely necessary. Let’s go.”

The men raced down the path in pursuit of the Rake, who appeared to be slowing down to let them catch up.

“Looks like he wants to play,” Peplow said.

The men closed the gap, and as they rounded a corner that brought the wharf into view, they all stopped, mouths agape as the second helicopter crashed into the ground and exploded in a massive fireball.

Share Watson's House of Horrors

Subscribe now

As the fog rolled away, Raven couldn’t help but be taken by the beauty of her surroundings. While Alcatraz was a crumbling relic held together by stories and the ghosts of the past, the surrounding area was nothing short of beautiful, especially with the rising sun painting it in shades of red and gold.

The creatures were all in place, each of them excited at the prospect of exacting revenge on their captors. Raven had warned them that Salem was off-limits, but she also knew that these were feral animals with a thirst for blood. It was her job to protect her daughter and hers alone.

Rather than go back up to the highest level of the island, where the prison lay, Raven opted to hide out in the building closest to the dock. Had she known or cared anything about the history of her hideout, she would have known that it was where the guards and their families had resided when Alcatraz was still a functioning prison.

As she made her way through the building to a vantage point looking out across the bay, she could feel the eyes of those who had died here watch her passage. She could feel their fear and confusion, and while it pained her to see spirits trapped in such a way, Raven forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

Settling herself by a window on the third floor, she sent her thoughts out into the ether, looking for one more talk with her daughter before the fight began.

***

The helicopters flew side by side, the rays of the rising sun bouncing off the gunmetal grey exterior of the craft. Salem sat between Bits and Bytes, watching as they pecked away silently at their laptops.

The two security personnel, who had introduced themselves as Chalmers and Madison, sat on ither side of the helicopter, ball caps turned backwards on their heads and guns aimed out the open doors.

“Salem. Can you hear me?”

She flinched at the sound of the voice, louder than usual in her head. Bits grabbed his laptop, which almost fell when Salem nudged against him.

“Everything okay?” he asked, a legitimate look of concern on his face.

“I’m scared of flying,” Salem lied, offering up a weak smile.

“We’ll be there soon, and trust me, these things are completely safe. We see to it,” Bits said, nodding in the direction of his partner.

“SALEM…PLEASE ANSWER.”

“I hear you.”

“You must be close. I can feel it.”

Salem looked into the cockpit and out the front window of the helicopter, seeing the San Francisco skyline not too far off in the distance. “We are close. I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. I will make sure nothing happens to you, even if that means giving up my life.”

“I don’t want that.”

“I’ve lived many lifetimes. I’ll tell you about some of them if I make it out alive.”

The conversation was interrupted by Drake’s voice filling the cabin as he radioed in from the other chopper.

“Listen up,” he ordered. “We are five minutes out. Soldiers, remember, tranquilizer rounds only. Salem, if there is an attack, do your thing and protect the people by your side.”

Never one to enjoy being told what to do, Salem resisted the urge to flip the bird. Instead, she reached out to Raven. “Five minutes. Be ready.”

“Bits, what is the Wenlutah’s current position?”

A couple of taps on his computer later, he replied, “On the high ground, outside the prison.”

“Copy that. My guess is that they’ll all be there, forming a protective circle around the bitch.”

“Don’t call her a bitch, asshole,” Salem hissed.

“We will land our chopper on the roof of the prison. You will land on the main level by the boat landing dock. It’s a tight fit, but not a huge problem. Hold your position and stay in the chopper. We will come to you. Got it?”

All but Salem spoke their assent.

“Salem?” Drake said.

“Yes.”

“This should be a quick in and out. We will drive them in your direction. Do what you do and take them down without inflicting injury. Am I clear?’

“Crystal.”

“Keep the comms open, and good luck.”

“They are landing on the prison roof, Mother. My helicopter will be down by the water.”

“I’ll be nearby.”

Beyond the city skyline, the sun rose across the bay. Alcatraz appeared, looking calm and peaceful, a state that would not remain that way for long.

***

WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP.

The sound of the approaching helicopters reached Raven before they came into view. It wasn’t until she saw the glint of metal in the sky on the horizon that she knew they were really close.

Closing her eyes, she willed her creature to remain vigilant, reminding them that Salem was off limits. They had obeyed her since their release, but the prospect of fresh blood and some revenge might change all that.

Once the helicopters flew past the main wharf on Alcatraz, Raven moved quickly, descending the stairs and heading for the main entrance of the guard quarters. There were limited places for the helicopters to land, and she wanted to be as close as possible to the one that carried her daughter.

***

“Circle the island,” Drake said, signaling both pilots. “Bits and Bytes, I want to know where these fucking things are at all times.”

“The Wenlutah is still by the prison. The heat signatures show two more there, plus one down by the main building on the lower level.” Bits replied.

“Where’s the witch?”

“Lower level.”

All eyes trained on the island as they performed a slow loop.

“Police boat by the wharf. Any signs of life?” Drake asked.

“Negative,” Bits replied.

Thorn moved his head from side to side, looking out though both open doors of the helicopter. “Are those bodies down there?”

Looking though a pair of binoculars, one of the guards responded. “Looks like a couple of cops torn apart and what looks to be a fucking horse.”

“The Nuckelavee,” Thorn whimpered. “Dead?”

“Looks to be, sir.”

After one full loop and no sign of any movement, Drake sent out the order. “We will take the roof of the prison. Chopper two, take the wharf.”

The pilot of Salem’s helicopter watched as his partner slowly lowered onto the roof of the prison. Once it touched down, he moved around to the front of the island, cursing at the limited space available to land. “Make sure you are all buckled in. This is going to be tight.”

“Shit,” Bits said.

“Relax, kid. I’ve fit bigger choppers than this into tighter spots. I got it.

“No, you don’t understand. The Wenlutah is coming, and it’s coming fast.”

“Where?” Chalmers asked, gripping his weapon tightly.

“Other side. Madison, she’s coming directly to you.”

Looking down the sight of his weapon, Madison said, “I don’t see it.”

“I’m telling you, she’s close.

Salem looked beyond Madison and caught the movement of the creature bounding down under the cover of trees. It was unlike anything she had ever seen in her life, and she suddenly wished that she was back in her little house with Terry arguing about paint colors.

As the creature broke into the open, Madison finally saw it. “What the actual fuck?”

“What is going on?” Drake asked over the intercom.

“It looks like they are bringing the fight to us.” Madison yelled as he pulled the trigger.

Share Watson's House of Horrors

Subscribe now

Salem sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Drake to arrive. The guards were no longer posted outside, her display of power against them seen as a sign that their presence was no longer required.

Before they left, she had probed inside their minds, surprised that access was so easy. She found nothing there to help her, though. The men had been nothing more than mindless minions, the lowest of the low on the Thorn totem pole. She wasn’t sure if she should be offended at that fact, but the more Salem considered it, the more it seemed that their lack of any knowledge of the ins and outs of Thorns business dealings was probably why they had been chosen.

Hearing a door open at the end of the hallway, Salem rose and tried to get her mind right. This mission was all about making sure that Terry remained safe and that her mother remained free. How to make both of those things happen was the issue. Salem was sure that Thorn would not look kindly on her playing any role in maintaining Raven’s freedom.

Drake rapped on the door and stepped inside, looking like a man ready to do battle. The five o’clock shadow and designer clothing were gone in favor of combat attire and a clean-shaven look that showed off a powerful square jaw.

“Good morning, Lionel,” Salem said with a smile.

He seemed surprised by the pleasantries, probably expecting a mouthful of vitriol, but he returned the smile and said, “Good morning to you. Are you ready to go?”

“I’m not sure. Do I need to bring anything?”

Drake pulled a pack off his shoulder and handed it to Salem. “There’s a clean set of clothing in there that might be more suitable than what you are wearing now.”

Salem looked down at her torn T-shirt, soiled sweatpants, and cheap sneakers, feeling inclined to agree. “I suppose you’re right. We aren’t going to Wal-Mart after all.”

“I’ll wait outside while you change. Do it quickly, please.”

Tossing her dirty clothes aside, Salem slipped on the fatigues that Drake had delivered. She tied back her red locks with a hair band and surveyed herself in the mirror. Camo was not what she would have ordinarily chosen as a fashion statement, but it was certainly better than what she’d previously had on.

Salem stepped into the hallway, closing and locking the room door with a flick of the wrist.

Drake scowled and shook his head. “You may want to preserve some of that for our trip.”

“I’ve got plenty in reserve,” Salem said, jogging down the hallway. “I’m not worried. Maybe you should be.”

Remaining stone-faced, Drake wheeled around and set off at a brisk pace. “Choppers leave in fifteen. Let’s go.”

They headed out of the building and into a waiting Jeep, which took off before they had time to get their seatbelts fastened.

Salem fiddled with the seatbelt, but she struggled to get it engaged as the Jeep bounded over uneven terrain, the driver seemingly oblivious to the thick fog surrounding them.

“Can he even see where he’s going?” Salem asked, gripping tightly to the side of the open-topped vehicle.

“Night vision goggles, with some modifications from Bits and Bytes,” Drake replied.

“I hope our pilots have those, too. I don’t see us going anywhere in this weather.”

The rise lasted no more than a couple of minutes, but it felt like forever. Stepping out of the Jeep, Salem rubbed her tailbone, which felt bruised and battered beyond belief.

It looked as though they were standing in the middle of nowhere, but as Drake led them through the fog, shapes began to emerge in the near distance. It was still tough to see, but Salem could make out a pair of helicopters and several people milling around. She also saw the unmistakable outline of Thorn sitting in his powerchair, gesticulating wildly. As they drew nearer, his words became clear.

“I don’t give a good flying fuck what you think. We are leaving now.”

“What seems to be the problem?” Drake asked.

At the sight of Salem and his head of security, Thorn fought to regain his composure. “Our pilots here are refusing to fly despite the fact that these outrageously expensive Black Hawk helicopters are equipped with FLIR, as well as a few extras from our IT boys.”

Salem watched as Drake pulled the pilots aside and spoke to them quietly. Both airmen shook their heads and pointed at the sky, seemingly refusing to change their stance.

“Well, this isn’t any good,” Salem said, sidling up beside Thorn. “Maybe we should call it a day.”

“Maybe you should learn your place and keep your mouth shut, Miss Grainger.” Thorn spat out the name, knowing how much it would rankle his target.

Salem refused to take the bait. While she found Thorn to be a pathetic creature, she also knew that he was a man that expected to get what he wanted, whenever he asked for it. She remained silent.

Bits and Bytes and the four other members of the security detail busied themselves by going over a checklist that had probably already been looked at a hundred times. It was obvious that they were going out of their way to escape the wrath of Thorn.

“I’m not paying them a penny more,” the billionaire yelled in the direction of Drake and the pilots. “They are already overpaid.”

Drake sauntered over to Thorn, a look of resignation on his face. “It’s not a matter of money, sir. They simply refuse to fly in this fog.”

“What about the equipment that Bits and Bytes delivered? That software can see through a bloody brick wall as though it wasn’t there. Surely it can see through this,” Thorn said throwing his arms up in the air.

The movement made the fog begin to swirl in concentric circles that spread out like waves after dropping a pebble in a pond. With each wave, the mist grew thinner, evaporating before their eyes.

Drake stared at Salem. “Are you doing this?”

Feeling her heart sink, she shook her head, the movement of her ponytail sending more of the fog drifting up and away.

“It’s a miracle,” Thorn said, beaming like a crazy man.

No, it’s my mother,” Salem muttered under her breath.

Jumping into action, Drake rounded up his team and yelled at the pilots to fire up the choppers. After surveying the sky for a moment and seeing the fog melt away, the men headed to their respective cockpits and prepared to leave.

As the fog drifted off, Salem peered out into the early morning darkness, looking in the direction of Alcatraz. She didn’t need a map or co-ordinates to know the direction in which The Rock lay. Instead, she felt her mother sounding out like a beacon, calling the group to their death.

Share Watson's House of Horrors

Subscribe now

Salem stood in the middle of her room, arms folded across her chest, and waited for Thorn to maneuver his powerchair into the tight space. She laughed aloud when he bumped against the table and toppled the glass sitting on top.

“Clumsy me,” Thorn said with a smile, his anger simmering just below the surface.

“Accidents happen. I mean, look at your face,” Salem jabbed.

The part of Thorn’s face that was visible flushed red, the color bleeding down to his neck and threatening to stain his pristine white shirt collar. “Someone is feeling a tad feisty today. I’m told you wanted to see me, Miss Grainger.”

“Rebecca Grainger is dead, at least for the moment. My name is Salem.”

Thorn waved away the comment as he regained his composure. “Whatever you say, dear. None of it matters to me.” He flicked away a piece of lint from his suit jacket and turned his attention back to Salem. “What do you want?”

“A couple of things. First, I want to talk to my boyfriend, plus I want to know the details of our proposed trip to The Rock.”

“The first isn’t possible,” Drake said. “He is in a safe house that has no means of communication in or out.”

“Don’t feed me bullshit, Lionel,” Salem scoffed. “How do you keep in contact with your team out there?”

“I don’t need to. There is only one road in and out. Trust me, they won’t be bothered.”

Salem stared down the mercenary, thinking about the ways she would like to hurt him. As she did that, she reached out and slipped inside the mind of Spencer Thorn, only to be met with the same brick wall as earlier.

“We can, though, supply some details on our mission,” Thorn said, a milky tear dripping from his ruined left eyeball and onto the silver mask covering that side of his face.

She probed deeper and took some delight in seeing tears begin to flow freely from his eye.

Thorn squirmed in his chair but still managed a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Would you care to hear those details, or are we done here?”

Beginning to feel the strain of using her powers to no avail, Salem pulled out of Thorn’s mind and relaxed. “Let’s hear it.”

“Lionel, if you would care to take the floor.”

Noticing the white fluid running down his boss’s mask, Drake pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his dress shirt and handed it to Thorn before beginning to speak. “We shall depart from this facility by helicopter at six a.m. sharp. I expect you to be ready fifteen minutes prior to our departure.”

“I should warn you that I’m not much of a morning person.”

Ignoring the remark, Drake continued. “There will be two birds. You will occupy one with Bits and Bytes, as well as two security personnel. Myself, Mr. Thorn, and two more of my team will take the other.”

“That’s a lot of men,” Salem said. “A lot of potential for trigger fingers.”

Thorn wheeled forward a touch and cleared his throat. “I believe I already mentioned, Miss Grainger, that this is a retrieval mission, not some mass execution.”

“And I believe I told you that my name is Salem.”

Drake stepped between the two, hands raised in an effort to calm the impending blowout. “Can we please focus on the task at hand?”

“My apologies to you both. Please, continue,” Thorn said.

“As just mentioned, we are looking to recapture the escaped creatures, so I would ask, Salem, that you try to show some restraint.”

Gritting her teeth and holding back her anger, Salem nodded.

“We will have limited space in the choppers, which means that we may need to sacrifice one of the escapees,” Thorn continued.

Unable to restrain herself further, Salem spoke loudly. “I hope you’re not talking about my mother. Losing a trio of parental types in the space of twenty-four hours might be more than I can take. You’ve both seen how I get when I’m upset.”

Spinning his powerchair around, Thorn headed for the door. “This conversation is over.” He looked down at his wristwatch. A little more than two hours before we leave. Please try to be ready and on your best behavior, Salem.”

She watched him go and then turned her attention back to Drake. “Not my mother, right?”

“No. The Wenlutah. We have a replacement coming in a couple of days.” Drake gave a little nod and followed his boss out the door, which he narrowly avoided contact with as Salem threw it closed.

She was tired, but Salem knew that sleep would not come. Hopping onto her bed, she hoisted herself up and peered out a narrow window sitting just below the ceiling. She didn’t think that any pilot worth his salt would fly in such conditions, but she decided to try and warn her mother, just in case they did make it out.

***

The water lapped against the dock, the rhythmic splashing bringing a sense of exterior calm to Raven that she didn’t feel inside.

The chance to escape Thorn’s prison was one that she knew she had to take, but if she were honest with herself, she didn’t know what to do now. Two of the creatures that had escaped with her were now dead, and Raven knew that she had to accept some blame in that.

What was the end goal? Was it to slip back into a life like she’s lived before being caught? She didn’t believe that possible, for as powerful and smart as she was, she could not compete with Thorn and his money. Raven knew that he would spend whatever it took to get his exhibits back. What he might do to her once she was back in his grasp was not worth thinking about.

“Mother?”

Raven had hoped to hear from her daughter again, but the voice in her head was still a surprise.

“My child. How are you?”

“Scared. They are coming, and…”

“And taking you with them,” Raven finished. “When?”

“In less than two hours. Time for you to move, but if you do, leave the Wenlutah behind. That is how they know where you are.”

“No. I am responsible for them. Let these men come. We will be ready.”

“I will do what I can to help, Mother.”

Raven had felt dead inside for as long as she could remember, but it now felt as though blood was reaching her heart again, making it beat, making her care. “I will do all I can to protect you, child. Are they coming by water?”

“By air. Helicopters, but I don’t think they can fly in this fog.”

“I will clear a path for them.”

“Why would you do that?”

“This has to end, Salem. I will either be free or die fighting to be so. I will see you soon.”

Raven closed off her mind, feeling her daughter reach out and try to continue the conversation. There was nothing more to say. It was time to ready the troops and prepare for the arrival of the enemy.

Looking out beyond The Rock, Raven could barely make out the lights blinking atop the Golden Gate Bridge. The sky above was nothing more than a swirling mass of grey fog. Placing her hands on her abdomen, she closed her eyes and began to gently blow.

The fog twisted and turned upon itself, and ever so slowly began to break apart.

Share Watson's House of Horrors

Subscribe now

Waves of fatigue washed over Raven, making it close to impossible to lift her head off the pillow. The Rake knelt by the bed and pawed at her, telling her that it was time to move. She felt his despair and knew he was correct.

Forcing herself up, she followed the creature out of the prison and down the path to the dock, where she saw the Nuckelavee laying on its side, front hooves pawing at the ground.

Raven forced herself to move, her legs muscles burning as she picked up the pace. “I’m coming.”

When she reached the beast, the rider was in the process of pulling himself free of the horse whose flesh he shared. He tore free with a snapping of tendons, grunting with the effort.

Raven reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, her other hand resting on the exposed flank of the horse, which was rising and falling slowly with each shallow breath.

“Leave us be, lass. We are dying,” the rider said in his thick Scottish brogue.

“Be still. Let me work.”

Placing a bony hand on Raven’s arm, the rider pulled her hand away from his mount. “It’ll not work.” He nodded towards the bay. “There is freshwater out there. It’s like poison flowing through our veins.”

“Damn you. Let me try.”

The rider pulled himself across the ground and lay across the body of the horse. “Save your strength, lass. You have done enough. We will die free. Better that than wastin’ away in some damnable prison.”

Raven moved back and watched as the rider whispered in the ear of his horse, his hand caressing her flank. They both stopped moving at the same time, their hearts stopping in unison.

She stood and raised her face to the sky, letting loose a scream that sent tremors through the concrete beneath her feet.

The Rake backed away in fear, head bowed in supplication.

Raven turned to face the creature, her eyes blazing with fury. “Bring the others to me, right now.”

She watched as the Rake sped away on all fours. When he disappeared from sight, she closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, hoping to connect with her daughter.

Where are you, child?

***

Salem awoke with a gasp, clutching at the bedsheets, which were damp with sweat. She looked around the dimply lit room, looking for the source of the voice that had pulled her out of a fitful sleep.

Lifting herself out of bed, she stepped into the small bathroom attached to her sleeping quarters and flicked on the overhead light. The single fluorescent light flickered as it came to life, filling the space with an incessant hum that sounded like a mosquito buzzing by her ear.

Salem rubbed her eyes and turned on the sink faucet with her mind. The cold water felt good as she splashed it on her face before cupping her hands and gulping down a mouthful.

“Where are you, child?”

With a start, Salem stepped away from the sink and stared into the mirror that sat above it, expecting to see someone standing behind her. There was no one there.

Flicking off the light, Salem sat on the toilet seat and closed her eyes, embracing the dark. “I am here.”

“I hear you. Are you safe?”

Salem tapped the heel of her hand against the side of her head, trying to pull herself free from the final stages of sleep.

“Rebecca?”

“Mother?”

“Yes. Are you safe?”

“I’m not sure. These people are not to be trusted, but I think they fear me.”

Salem jumped at the sound of thumping on her door. “Is everything alright in there?”

“What?”

The guard rattled the door handle, looking to get inside. “I hear voices,” he said, as he struggled with the lock that Salem was keeping in place.

“I’m fine. I had a nightmare.”

The rattling stopped, and things went still again.

“If they are with Thorn, they are not your friends.”

“I…”

“I can hear your thoughts, child. Speak to me in your mind.”

Moving back to her bed, Salem laid down and placed her arm over her eyes. “Can you still hear me?”

“I can, and I can feel your fear. I am coming for you. I just need a moment a day or two to rest. They will not know what hit them.”

Salem sat up straight, heart thudding in her chest. “They are coming for you. They know where you are.”

There was a moment of silence that seemed suddenly deafening.

“Mother.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

“Rebecca, you cannot come with them.”

“I don’t have a choice. They have my boyfriend. I need to play along until I know he is safe.”

Silence again.

“I’ll be ready.”

Salem felt pressure at her temples for a split second as the connection to her mother closed. She rose and moved to the door, throwing it open, and stepping out into the corridor. The guards dropped to their knees, weapons pointed in her direction.

“Put those away.” Salem nonchalantly flicked her hand, sending the guns skittering down the hallway. “Tell your boss I need to have a chat.”

***

Spencer Thorn sat in his electric wheelchair and stared out his office window, seeing nothing but a swirling mass of dense fog. “It’s bad enough she got out, but now that bitch has ruined my view,” he muttered.

“What was that, sir?” Drake asked.

Wheeling around to face Drake, Thorn waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing. Tell me more about the blocking device our little geniuses developed.”

Drake placed a plastic box that looked like a wireless earbud charger on the desk and pushed it across to the billionaire. “It’s in there.”

Thorn opened the case and lifted out the circular device, holding it up for closer inspection. “So, you’re telling me that you tried this and that it works?”

Drake nodded. “I told her that Selina and Craig were dead. We all felt her fishing around in our heads, but she got nothing.”

“Magnificent. I’m assuming there are enough for all of us making the trip?”

The idea of telling his boss that this was not a babysitting mission crossed his mind, but instead, Drake played the dutiful soldier. “Of course, sir.”

A knock on the office door interrupted the conversation.

“Enter,” Thorn called out.

One of the guards chosen to look after Salem stepped into the office, his eyes darting around nervously.

Drake rose from his seat and yelled at the guard, “Why are you away from your post? And where the hell is your weapon.”

“Sh-she removed it, sir.”

“Explain yourself,” Drake demanded.

“The witch. She took away our weapons without laying a hand on us.”

“Where is she now?” Drake asked, unholstering his sidearm.

“In her room. She is demanding to speak to Mr. Thorn.”

The billionaire wheeled himself out from behind his desk and pulled up beside Drake. He placed the metallic device in his ear and said, “Looks like I’m going to get to test this thing myself.”

Share Watson's House of Horrors

Subscribe now

Rebecca lay on the cot, tossing and turning as sleep refused to come. Confident in her powers, she had no concerns about the upcoming raid on Alcatraz. Instead, it was what would come after that gnawed at her. Would Terry look at her the same way, and would she have a relationship with the only people she had known as her parents?

In her mind, it felt as though Rebecca was dead and that Salem was how she now identified herself. With her powers turned on, the idea of flicking them off again seemed unappealing.

Rolling over, she focused on the door and began controlling the lock with her mind, marveling at how easy it was to slide it open and closed. While she fiddled with the lock, Salem raised her arm and willed a glass of water on the table across the room into her hand. All of it felt strange, but also somehow natural, like these were acts she should be performing.

Sitting up, she took a sip of water and closed her eyes, concentrating on the sounds outside her spartan room.

Just behind her walls, she heard rodents and insects scuttling around in search of food scraps. The guards outside her door talked in hushed tones, the occasional word becoming clear. If she really focused, Salem knew that she would hear the entire conversation, but she cast her mind further, searching for Terry and hoping that he was somewhere nearby.

Her search came back empty, and she could feel the anger begin to brew inside. Exhaling slowly, Salem fought to regain her inner calm, not wishing to expend too much energy before making the trip to Alcatraz and potentially coming face to face with her mother.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hallway beyond her room snapped her back to the present. With a wave of her hand, she unlocked the door and opened it, smiling when she saw Drake, hand raised and ready to knock. “Come in,” Salem said, sending the glass of water back to the table.

If Drake was surprised by the glass floating across the room, he didn’t show it. He gave it the merest glance as he strode into the room, followed by Bits and Bytes.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Salem asked, doing nothing to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

Pulling a cheap plastic chair over beside her bed, Drake sat and studied her for a moment before speaking. “Mr. Thorn would like to know if you are comfortable.”

Glancing around the room, Salem smirked. “It’s not the Hilton, but it’ll do.”

Drake nodded. “He also asked me to pass on some news.”

Salem pushed herself up and leaned forward, the springs on the mattress groaning in protest as she moved. “Okay.”

“It’s about your mom and dad.”

“Selina and Craig, you mean? I think we are all past that pretense now.”

“Sure, Selina and Craig.”

Salem felt her skin warm as she wormed her way inside Lionel Drake’s head, looking for the truth behind the lies she was almost certainly about to hear. As hard as she pushed, there was nothing to see. It was akin to trying to read a wet book whose ink had bled, making the words illegible.

Drake’s left eye twitched slightly as he spoke. “I’m afraid there was an accident, and…”

“What kind of accident?” Salem continued to probe.

“A vehicle collision. Craig died on the scene. We did all we could for your mo… for Selina, but she also passed. I’m sorry.”

She looked beyond Drake to Bits and Bytes, who stood by the door, heads down, refusing to make eye contact. Salem probed the IT team but ran across the same issue. “What about Terry?”

“What about him?” Drake asked.

“Where is he?”

Your boyfriend is safe. I have another member of our security team staying with him at a safe house. No harm will come his way, I assure you.”

Salem leaned forward until she was almost nose to nose with Drake. “He had better be safe. If anything happens to him, I will hold you responsible. Are we clear?”

The chair scraped loudly across the concrete floor as Drake pushed it backwards and stood. “He’ll be fine. I’ll be back to brief you before we move on Alcatraz.”

“When are we leaving.”

Pausing at the door, his back to Salem, Drake said, “Soon. Get some rest. I have a feeling you might need it.”

***

Once they were clear of the building adjacent to the Thorn Industries main warehouse, Drake smiled at Bits and Bytes. “Did you feel it?”

Bits shuddered. “She was definitely inside my head. Not an experience I’d care to repeat anytime soon.”

“Like ants crawling under the skin,” Bytes added.

Fishing in his left ear, Drake plucked out a small metallic disc that looked like a watch battery. “I think we can agree that your little blocking device worked like a charm.”

“What makes you so confident?” Bytes asked.

Drake thought about the pile of destroyed mannequins and targets back in the space where Salem trained. “Because, boys, I am still alive.”

Share Watson's House of Horrors

Rebecca stepped out of the vehicle and immediately felt self-conscious. The activewear that Selina had provided as a change of clothing was form-fitting and clung to her slender frame like a second skin. If anyone else noticed, they didn’t let on. Drake walked ahead and held open the door to the building that sat a couple of miles up the road from the Thorn Industries main warehouse.

Bits and Bytes arrived in a second vehicle and walked past Rebecca without so much as a second glance. They were much too busy arguing over something on their target to notice the pretty redhead in the figure-hugging yoga pants. “Get a grip, Rebecca,” she muttered to herself as she strode to the building and stepped inside.

She wasn’t sure what to expect based on the building’s bland exterior, but the inside looked like a place where elite warriors went to train. One half of the vast space was filled with exercise equipment, while the other side played host to all manner of targets and tackle dummies, many of which looked the worse for wear. A group of armed men circled the inside of the building while Bits and Bytes sat with Thorn looking at an array of computer screens.

Drake stepped in behind her and pulled the door closed. He gently touched her on the shoulder and pointed in the direction of Thorn, who was now looking their way.

“The prodigal daughter arrives,” the billionaire said as he expertly guided his powerchair through the target practice area. “Are you ready to go to work?”

Rebecca looked around the space and nodded. “Yeah, whatever that means.”

“It means, my dear, that we are going to prepare you for war by introducing you to the weapons that you have at your disposal.”

“I still have no idea how that is going to happen.”

“I think I might,” Thorn said, tossing her a garment that looked like a sports bra with built-in speakers in front and back.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You wear it, of course.”

Eyeing the garment warily, Rebecca asked, “Is there somewhere a little more private where I can put this on.”

“There is a locker room just beyond the gym, but please do hurry.”

Rebecca jogged to the back of the facility and stepped into the trendiest-looking locker room she had ever seen. It was apparent that Thorn had spared no expense in setting the place up, which made her wonder just how big his security detail really was. She put on the sports bra and then slipped her T-shirt on over the top. The speaker-looking units on the garment dug into her skin, but a slight adjustment relieved the pressure.

She took a look at herself in the mirror and headed back out to the target area, where Thorn sat waiting for her.

“How does it feel on you?” he asked.

“Snug, but not too uncomfortable.”

“Good, good.”

“Now, do you care to explain what is going on and what it’s for?”

Thorn guided himself back over to the computer table and tapped at one of the laptops.

Within a matter of seconds, Rebecca felt the garment begin to warm up. The heat was pleasant at first, but it quickly became painful. “Ouch. Turn it off. HOT.”

Without looking up, Thorn tapped away at the keyboard and waited for a response.

The heat stopped almost immediately, but it gave way to a blast of cold that made Rebecca feel like she was soaking in an ice bath. It didn’t hurt like the heat did, but she still wanted it gone.

“Embrace it,” Thorn yelled from behind his computer.

Rebecca gritted her teeth, which were beginning to chatter, and tried to block out the cold. For a moment, it felt as though she had it under control, but the cold won out, dropping her to her knees as it penetrated her skin.

“Shut it down,” Thorn said to Bits and Bytes as he guided his chair over to Rebecca.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her body shaking with the cold.

“Testing a theory. You made a comment about my face when we first met. How do you think it became that way?”

“How should I know? One of your animals attacked you?”

“Common guess, but only partially correct.” Thorn reached up with his damaged hand and tugged at the metallic mask covering half his face. It came away easily, and he dropped it into his lap. “Look and tell me what you see.”

Letting out a gasp, Rebecca looked upon his ruined face and knew that the damage did not come at the fang or claw of any animal. The flesh that remained looked like melted wax allowed to cool after the snuffing of a candle. “Were you in a fire?”

“No. I drew the ire of your mother.”

“She did that to you? How?”

Thorn returned the mask to its rightful place and, for a second, looked afraid. “What I am about to tell you may sound like the ravings of an absolute psychopath, but it will also help explain what I am trying to do with you here.”

With a nod, Rebecca urged him to tell the story.

“When I was a younger man, I became obsessed with the idea of power. My business had already taken off, and I was wealthy beyond my wildest dreams. They say that money is power, but that’s not wholly accurate. Yes, it opened doors and allowed me to corrupt and cheat my way to the top. When I reached that point, I realized that my idea of power was not what others believed it to be.”

“You wanted magic,” Rebecca said.

Snapping his fingers, Thorn pointed at her. “You get it. My collection was already growing at that time, but it was the Baba Yaga, your mother, that was my biggest, most elusive prize. Who would ever have believed that she would come to me? I took that as a sign.”

“A sign of what exactly?”

“I have a little of all my creatures inside me. Their blood flows through my veins, yet I cannot do what they do. I believed that Raven’s blood would be the catalyst that kick-started everything. I believed I would finally have the power I so desired.”

“Raven didn’t play ball?”

Thorn shook his head. “No. Strapped down and sedated, she found a way to boil her blood in the middle of a transfusion.” He pointed to the mask. “This was the result. I was furious, and I took out my anger on her.”

Rebecca took a step back and balled her fists. “You hurt her.”

“I took her power in another way. That was the night you were conceived.”

A loud hum filled the room, and the weights on the gym equipment began to rattle. Arms outstretched, Rebecca went up onto her tiptoes and lifted off the floor ever so slightly, heat coming off her in waves.

Thorn kept his eyes on her but pointed over to Bits and Bytes and signaled them with a light switch flicking motion. “Stop, Rebecca. Stop,” he whispered.

She continued to float upward for a few more inches before collapsing to the floor, frozen breath escaping her lips. “What happened?” she asked.

“You controlled your power without knowing you were doing it. It’s all about controlling your emotions. You got angry as I told you about your mother. While that was happening, Bits and Bytes were cranking up the heat, just like we did a few minutes ago when you couldn’t handle it.”

“I didn’t feel it.”

“Your body adjusted. Think about words that people use when talking about being angry. Words like heated and steamed, unlike when you are scared, it’s more like…”

“Frozen,” Rebecca said.

“I believe that your body temperature generates your powers. Your job is to figure out what you can do in various states. We can regulate your body heat using that fantastic garment you’re wearing under that shirt. You need to level it out and see what you can do at different temperatures.”

“I think I get it.”

“Let’s test it out.” Thorn pointed at an archery target in the far corner of the building. “Bullseye,” he said.

Planting her feet on the floor, Rebecca looked over at Bits and Bytes and nodded at them to begin. She felt the heat begin to radiate out from the units on her chest and back, hissing as her skin began to blister. Staring down the target and getting the range, she closed her eyes and tuned in to the sound of her heart hammering. She imagined the sound to be a ticking time bomb seconds away from exploding. Allowing the device to explode in her mind’s eyes, she sucked in the heat of the blast and then blew it outwards.

The security team in the building let out a collective gasp as bolts of light shot out of Rebecca’s eyes, converging as one and tearing a hole through the center of the target.

“Bravo, my dear. Outstanding work.”

Rebecca looked at her handiwork and felt equal parts excited and afraid.

“How did that feel?” Thorn asked. “Tell me everything.”

“It felt natural. How long did it take me to do that?”

“A little over a second after we applied the heat.”

“That can’t be right. It felt much longer.”

“Time might not work the same for you when you are in control.”

The image of the incident with Silas back at the house flashed into her mind. “Yes, maybe. What’s next?”

“How about we do some more until you get to a point where we don’t need to use the heating and cooling elements?”

“Let’s do it.”

***

Raven had never had an issue with the ailments suffered by mortal folk, but the dip in the ocean seemed to be causing problems. She lay in bed and floated in and out of sleep, feeling feverish one moment and close to freezing the next.

The Rake sat on the floor beside her bed, ever vigilant. She held out her hand and placed it on his head, his cool skin soothing her as the fever hit again. Closing her eyes, she whispered her daughter’s name before sleep took her.

***

The building’s target practice side sat in ruins. Targets and dummies pulled apart, the pieces scattered across the room. Rebecca stood in the middle of the maelstrom and surveyed what she had done. She had proven to be a quick learner and now had an arsenal of powers to call upon at any given time. Despite that, she still felt as though much more hid under the surface, just out of reach.

“I believe you are ready,” Thorn said.

“When do we begin?”

“Tomorrow. We’ll be taking a trip to Alcatraz.”

“Why would we go there?”

“Because, my dear. That is where our merry band is hiding out.”

Rebecca shook her head, confused. “How could you possibly know that?”

“When we caught the Wenlutah, we had the idea of chipping him and sending him back out with his tribe. We wanted to track their movements and feeding patterns from afar. He is still wearing that chip, and unless he learned how to swim, he had some help getting over there. That tells me that they are all still together.”

Bits and Bytes interrupted the conversation, eyeing one another with smirks on their faces. It was Bytes who spoke up. “We have a suggestion.”

“What’s that?” Rebecca asked.

“We were impressed by your performance today and think you deserve a killer codename, just like we have.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes and was about to shoot them down when a name popped into her head. “Okay, boys, you can call me Salem.”

The Witchy Tip Jar

Share Watson's House of Horrors

The police boat bobbed up and down in the water, the motion making the rookie feel a little sick. Officer Trey Mixon was already nervous about his first day on boat duty, but the vessel’s movement was doing little to keep his burrito lunch where it belonged. He put his head down between his legs and breathed in deeply, fighting to keep the contents of his stomach at bay.

“You look a little green around the gills there, rookie. Do I need to fetch you a bucket?”

Trey sat up and swallowed hard, trying not to let his training officer see him in a moment of weakness. Sal Johnson was a veteran cop who did things his way and did little to hide the fact that he was not pleased about training another rookie, especially a black kid. He didn’t do anything overtly racist, but Trey noticed the little things that Johnson said and did, things that he has experienced over and over again in the primarily white community where he lived. “I’m fine, sir. Thank you for asking.”

“What about a life preserver? You need one of those?”

“No need, sir. I can swim.”

Johnson raised his eyebrows as though surprised by the statement. “Good. One less thing for me to worry about.”

The pilot stepped out of the boathouse and addressed his fellow officers. “Gentlemen, we will be pushing off in a couple of minutes. Our captain has overruled my objections to taking the boat out in this weather.”

“Why the hell do they have us going to Alcatraz? It’s closed down right now. Shit, the construction guys working there haven’t been able to get onto the rock since this fog blew in.”

“Tell me about it. Seems there are some security guys out there who haven’t checked in for hours now. Probably just an issue with their communications, but the captain is friends with the guy who owns the security company, so we gotta go wet nurse these pricks.”

“That’s bullshit, Larry. You want me to operate the big light up front? Might help you see a little further ahead.”

“Good idea. Hey, rookie. When I give you the order, untie us. You got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright. Two minutes and we are good to go. If we don’t hit something and sink to the bottom of the bay, I might just treat you fellas to a beer when we get back on dry land.”

Trey winced at the comment and said a silent prayer. This was not how he expected his first visit to Alcatraz would go.

***

Construction lights lined the walls of the cellblock where Raven rested. They were dimly lit and didn’t give off much of a glow, which was fine by her. She had grown accustomed to the half-light during her time and captivity and felt comforted by the familiar surroundings. Freedom was going to be more challenging to adjust to than she imagined, but once Thorn was out of the picture, Raven had a feeling things might go easier.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine how her daughter looked now. She could sense her close by, but couldn’t worm her way fully inside her head to get a clearer picture. Raven was concerned about Thorn and how much of his DNA had seeped into their child. She also worried that Thorn and his people might have corrupted her girl and told her things that were not true. She would just have to cross that bridge when the time came, but if they had messed with her child, there would be hell to pay.

Raven sat up as gooseflesh prickled her flesh. Danger was coming; she could feel it. She stepped out of her cell and placed a hand on the Rake’s shoulder. “Go,” she said, pointing at the exit to the prison. The creature bounded away on all fours, sniffing the air and gathering speed as he picked up a scent.

No sooner had he left the building than the Nuckelavee bounded in. The horse approached slowly and bent its front legs to get down to eye level with Raven. The rider leaned forward and spoke in a gruff Scottish accent. “Men are coming. Get on.”

Raven grabbed onto his outstretched arm and allowed him to pull her onto the horse. The exposed bones of the horse and rider, who were fused together, dug at her skin, but now was not the time for complaints.

The rider stopped on the way out of the building and lifted a long piece of rebar, which he twirled like a baton. The metal made a swishing sound as it cut through the air. Happy with his weapon, the rider turned to Raven and said, “Hold on tight, lass.”

They flew out of the building, the wind whipping through Raven’s hair as they rode. Looking down towards the dock, she saw a vessel approaching, its bright light looking like the glowing eye of a sea monster as it breached the surface.

She was ready to fight, but with her familiars in place, Raven believed she might not need to.

***

“Keep that light on the dock, Sal, and hold on tight. I can’t guarantee a perfect docking,” Larry yelled from the boathouse.

Trey looked up at Alcatraz, but there was little to see. The high-powered light operated by Sal caught parts of the main building as the boat bobbed up and down, but they were nothing but fleeting glimpses of the structure.

Larry eased the boat into the dock, the sound of metal on metal tearing through the night as he got a little too close. “Tie it up, rookie.”

Leaping onto the dock, rope in hand, Trey formed the best knot he could and hoped it would hold.

Sal jumped down beside him and patted him on the shoulder. “Good job not throwing up, kid. Let’s find the security guys and get the hell out of here. This place gives me the willies.”

The cops pulled out their flashlights and used them to guide themselves along the dock and up onto the prison’s main landing area. They both almost screamed aloud when a large man stepped out of the mist, a big grin spread across his face.

“Sorry, officers, I didn’t mean to startle you. What brings you to the rock?”

“It’s a routine check-in, sir,” Sal said, shining his light in the man’s face and looking for signs of intoxication or drug use. “Your boss says he hasn’t heard from you guys in a while.”

Raising his hands and motioning at the sky, the security guard said, “We can’t get through. Communications are down with this weather. You can let them know that we are right as rain here.”

Sal nodded, but something felt off. It was the big man’s eyes and how they reflected the light from his torch. “Makes sense. Where’s the rest of your crew?”

The big man took a step back and to the side as he pointed up the hill. “We have a place up near the top. They’re up there now having a bite to eat.”

“You wouldn’t have any coffee up there, would you? It’s cold out there on the water, and I could use a little something to warm me up. You thirsty, rookie? You wanna come for a hike with me up to the guard station?”

“Sound good,” Trey said, moving in beside his boss and getting the feeling that something was very off.

“Lead the way. Sorry, big fella, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Norman, but there’s no need to follow me. My friends are coming to you.”

Sal pulled out his weapon and pointed it at Norman, who was now trembling as his skin seemed to change with each movement. “Trey, get your ass down there and get that boat untied. We are leaving now. Norman, get your ass on the ground and put your hands behind your back.”

Trey bolted for the dock, but he had barely taken three steps when something big and fast came out of the air and pinned him to the ground. The smell of rotting flesh hit him in the face, and this time he did lose his lunch as vomit flew from his mouth as he tried to scream.

“Get the fuck out of here, Larry,” Sal yelled back to the boat as the Aswang and the Rake advanced on him. He unloaded his weapon, missing the targets with every shot, and fumbled in his utility belt for a fresh clip. He never got close, as his attackers took him down and mercifully ended his life quickly.

Trey scrambled backward, trying to evade the beast that was now toying with him. It would let him get a couple of feet away, but every time he tried to stand, it would hop forward on its weird hind legs and pin him down again. As it landed on him again, his flashlight rolled out of his hand, the beam of light resting on Sal, who had a pair of creatures feasting on his insides.

“What’s happening up there?” Larry called out.

“GO,” Trey screamed. “Save yourself and go.”

Larry ran to the back of the boat and hopped onto the deck. He untied the rope, tossed it into the vessel, and went down hard as he slipped on the wet deck. Scrambling to his feet, he ran for the boathouse but stopped as he heard the sound of hooves on concrete. Looking into the fog, he saw a pair of what looked to be red lights approaching. It took his brain a moment to register that they were eyes. That was when Larry screamed.

***

The Nuckelavee picked up speed as it raced down to the waterfront, the rider now holding the rebar like he was about to joust a knight. Raven held on for dear life as they made the final turn and galloped across the landing area. She had a moment to see the Wenlutah snapping off the head of a cop in a single bite before the horse leaped and they flew through the air.

The rider leaned low and extended his arm, shifting the rebar a touch to the right. His measurements were inch-perfect as the metal flew into the open mouth of the screaming cop and out through the back of his head.

The Nuckelavee soared over the boat, the rider lifting the impaled officer as they cleared the vessel and plunged into the frigid water beyond. The horse navigated the water with ease, turning smoothly and heading back to the dock as the rider tossed the rebar and the attached cop into the depths.

They climbed out of the water and onto the dock in one graceful motion. Raven was cold and wet, but she couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d felt more alive. She jumped down off the Nuckelavee and shook herself like a dog. Walking around the landing area, she watched as her friends fed and knew that she had chosen well. She knew that they would give their lives to protect her, and she vowed that she would do the same for them.

Share Watson's House of Horrors

Rebecca sat up quickly and gripped the side of the bed as the room began to spin. Dropping her head, she pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to slow her breathing. The spinning started to abate, but she took a moment longer to allow it to pass fully.

The bed was unfamiliar, and the living quarters were cramped and bare save for the bed and a toilet. Rebecca tried to remember how she had landed here and groaned as it all came rushing back.

Rebecca jumped as a tapping sound filled the room. It was only then that she noticed that she was in a brick enclosure with a glass front. She peered out through the glass, still a little dizzy, and saw Selina there, rapping her nails on the clear surface.

“How are you feeling, dear?”

“Don’t call me dear,” Rebecca scoffed. “You are dead to me.”

Shoulders drooping, Selina removed her hand from the glass and picked at a ragged nail on her thumb. “Please don’t say that. You loved us up until a few hours ago.”

“I did, but that was when I thought I knew who you were. You and Dad have been lying to me my entire life.”

Selina smiled. “Still calling him Dad. That’s a good sign.”

“Force of habit. Don’t get all excited.”

“Becky, almost everything that we told you was the truth. Think of us as adoptive parents that didn’t want to burden you with what we plucked you from.”

“Do you love Craig?”

“What?”

“It’s a simple question. Do you love him?”

Selina sighed and lifted herself out of the chair, looking down the long hallway of the prison. “In a way. It was all business at first, but as time passed, it began to feel as though we were a family. We all have needs, so sharing a bed and keeping up the pretense became easier over time.”

The silence stretched on for a moment as Rebecca absorbed the answer. “It did feel real,” she finally admitted.

“Your dad and I love you. That is something you need to believe.”

“Hmm. Where is he now?”

“Craig? He’s, uh, he’s with Drake, taking Terry to a different location.”

Rebecca stood and placed her hands against the glass. “Where? Where are they taking him? When can I see him? I need to know that he is alright.”

“Thorn wouldn’t tell me, but I’m sure he is being well looked after. Your dad may look as though he doesn’t care much for your boyfriend, but he does. He won’t let any harm come to Terry.”

“What about me? Who’s protecting me now?”

A bright light appeared at the end of the hallway before Selina could answer. Rebecca peered down the hallway to try and get a bead on what was happening. The light disappeared as the security door closed, and Thorn wheeled down the long corridor. The man knew how to make a grand entrance, stopping at several different cells to look in on his exhibits and offer encouraging words.

Finally, he arrived outside the glass enclosure, moving his powerchair beside Selina and reaching out to shake her hand. “Is our girl behaving?” he asked.

“She just woke up, Mister Thorn. She is worried about Terry.”

“Tut tut, my dear. Terry will be fine as long as you play ball and help me retrieve my missing pets.”

Rebecca fought to control her anger, not wanting to do anything that would put Terry in jeopardy. “I don’t understand why you need me. Your people caught these things before, so surely they can do it again.”

“That’s a valid point, dear, but you must remember that when we caught them initially, we were taking them one at a time. This group scenario presents an issue. If this were a killing scenario, we could certainly take them out, but as I have already mentioned, I want them all back where they belong.”

Pacing in the cell, Rebecca suddenly felt as though the walls were pressing in on her. All she wanted was to go back to her house with Terry, where the biggest problem was deciding which color to paint the spare bedroom. She had no idea how to call upon her powers, and even if she did, she worried that it wouldn’t be enough to deliver what Thorn wanted. She turned to face her captor and said, “What guarantees do I have that you will allow me and Terry to walk away from this if I do what you want?”

“There are no guarantees in life, Miss Grainger, but I can tell you that I am a man of my word. I’m having Lionel take your boyfriend to a facility away from here, just in case Raven decides to return and come after me.”

“Please, Rebecca,” Selina said. “I’ve known this man for years. He has been nothing but good to our family.”

Sitting on the stone floor, Rebecca sighed and looked down the long corridor at all the cells lined on both sides. Several pathways led away from the main thoroughfare, making her wonder how big this place was and how many creatures were in here with her. She considered asking but then decided that she didn’t want to know. Being aware of the number might make her start thinking about how many other creatures were still running free. That type of thinking made the world feel a good deal less safe and not one into which she wanted to bring a child.

Rebecca stood and swiped at the butt of her jeans to remove any residue from the dusty floor. Her hand came away wet, and she panicked when she saw blood on her hand. “Oh, my God. My baby.”

“There is no baby,” Thorn said coldly. “Trust me; we tested to make sure. I’ll have Selina bring you a change of clothes and some feminine products, and then we can begin.”

“Begin what?”

“Pulling your powers out by hook or by crook.”

***

The SUV rumbled slowly along the highway, keeping pace with the traffic, which was slower than usual due to the dense fog still blanketing the city. Drake sat behind the wheel, the beginnings of a headache tapping at his temples as he peered through the murky mist.

“I’ve never seen anything like this in all the time that I’ve lived here,” Craig said.

“I thought fog was common here,” Drake said, annoyed that his passenger was talking while he was trying to concentrate on the road.

“It is, but it usually blows out as quickly as it comes in. It never hangs around like this.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, pal. Mother Nature is weird.”

They lapsed back into silence, which was a blessing to Drake. If he had to fill out a dating profile, he would describe himself as the strong silent type. That sounded better than the truth, which is that he would happily snap the neck of anyone who yapped at him for no good reason.

Ever since leaving the military, he had found it hard to find a group of friends like the ones he had in his squad. They all had his back no matter what. Civilians didn’t understand the level of trust and respect required to make it as a soldier. Drake didn’t have the words or patience to try explaining it, so he went the lone wolf route instead of constantly dealing with idiots. He groaned inwardly as Craig started talking again.

“I gotta tell you, man, I was as surprised as anyone when my daughter did what she did. Sure, she had a fiery temper, like any redhead, but she was usually gentle as a mouse. What is Raven like?”

“Are you asking if Rebecca has the same traits as her mother?”

“I guess.”

Drake shrugged. “I don’t know anything about her other than what I saw in the file. I wasn’t in the picture when they nabbed her, but from what I can tell, she wasn’t all bad.”

“She was bad enough when she fucked up Rankin down in the hold.”

“He probably had it coming,” Drake mumbled.

Craig reached back between the seats and shook Terry, lying down in the back seat, eyes open and staring at nothing in particular. “Are you okay back there, kid? Do you need us to stop and get you a drink or a bite to eat?”

“We’re not stopping—Thorn’s orders. There will be plenty to eat and drink at the safe house. Just chill and enjoy the ride. It won’t be much longer.”

“I feel bad for him. I gave him a bit of a tough time when he started dating my daughter, but that’s what fathers do, am I right?” Craig said.

Taking his attention off the road for a moment, Drake narrowed his eyes and said, “Craig, I swear to God, if you don’t shut up, I am going to smack you in the fucking mouth. The girl is not your kid, and I don’t know shit about being a dad. Drop it.”

Crossing his arms and puffing out his cheeks, Craig turned his attention to the world outside the passenger window, which was now beginning to come into focus as they went beyond the city limits.

The remainder of the ride went by in silence as they turned off the highway and onto a set of rural roads free from traffic. Drake navigated the potholes easily, keeping the ride smooth until they turned onto a dirt road that had a rundown-looking house at the end.

“Is that place even habitable?” Craig asked before remembering that he was supposed to be quiet. “Sorry.”

Drake pulled in front of the house and put the car in park. “I’m sorry I snapped. My head was pounding from trying to concentrate in that damn fog.”

“Forget about it.”

“And, yes, the house may not look like much from the outside, but it’s cozy enough inside. Why don’t you take the kid in and get him situated? I’ll bring in the supplies.”

Craig stepped out of the vehicle and stretched before opening the back door and giving Terry a shake. “Let’s go, kid. I’ll make us something to eat while you freshen up inside. What do you say?”

The young man slid out of the vehicle and stumbled as his feet hit the ground. Craig grabbed him around the waist and got him steady. They walked around the back of the car and went past Drake, who was leaning inside the cargo area, moving stuff around.

As soon as they hit the steps of the front porch, Drake stood and pulled the gun out of his waistband. He took a couple of steps forward, braced his feet, and shot both men in the back of the head.

Pulling out his smartphone, Drake punched in Thorn’s private number and waited for him to pick up, which he did on the third ring. “It’s done. What do you want me to do now?”

“Hide the bodies and get back here as quickly as possible. Selina needs to go too. They all know too much.”

“On it, sir. Sit tight; I won’t be long.”

Share

Raven turned over in her bunk and stared out through the bars. It felt strange to be in prison again so soon after escaping one, but at least here, she was free to leave whenever she wanted.

Sitting up, she combed her fingers through her hair, pulling the bright red strands away from her face. The Rake, who stood guard outside her cell, dropped to all fours and turned to face her when he sensed movement. His chalk-white skin was dotted with red splotches, no doubt from the men he had hunted down the night before.

Across the way, the Aswang lay on her back, her arms dangling off either side of the bunk. Her chest rose and fell slowly, but Raven could tell that she was not asleep.

Trying to stand, Raven felt her legs give out again. She dropped to the bed with a groan and laid back down, placing her arm across her eyes. Weakness was not something she’d had to deal with very often in her long life, but using her powers after they had been dormant so long was taking a toll. She toyed with the idea of letting the fog roll away, but she also knew that it was necessary to keep it in place. As long as the island lay under a blanket of fog, Raven was sure that no others would come.

Patience was a virtue that she needed to learn if she hoped to reconnect with her daughter, especially now that Silas was gone. The vision of his death enraged Raven, but she was aware that Rebecca did not know his true nature until after killing the imp. The girl was protecting the one she loved, which Raven would also do to protect her new flock.

Leaving her arm over her eyes, she drifted away and thought back to the time when her life had changed forever.

***

Throughout her lifetime, which was centuries longer than she could remember, Raven had moved from place to place, never setting down roots and never making friends. Having friends would have meant explaining why she looked the same while everyone else withered and died.

It had been an interesting life, but also one that was fraught with danger at times. On more than one occasion, she had suffered accusations of witchcraft and had a death sentence by fire that she managed to evade by putting on a brutal display of her powers. That had come at a time when moving to the next town was not quite so simple as it was today. Raven had spent years in self-isolation, honing her powers to ensure that she would be able to fight off anyone that came for her.

It had all gone according to plan until she settled in San Francisco, setting up a small fortune teller shop on Pier 39. She quickly gained a reputation there, given that her readings and predictions were so accurate. Still, she also knew well enough to throw out some false statements so that clients would have enough junk information to believe that she might be just another charlatan.

Raven had gone unnoticed and had lived an ordinary life for so long that she let her guard down. She still practiced her form of magic daily in her readings, but the protective powers were set aside for so long that she couldn’t call on them when the time came.

The day started as always, the vacation crowd wandering into her shop for a reading or to purchase other magic-related knick-knacks that she offered there. It was during a lull in the busy day that Thorn walked in. To Raven, he looked different than her usual clientele, which immediately made her a little nervous. Instead of the T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops that were the standard uniform of holiday goers, the man looked like he had just stepped out of a business meeting.

He browsed the shelves for a moment and then sat at the small table set up in the middle of the room, on which sat a large crystal ball.

“Welcome to my lair, good sir. How might Madame Raven and her spirit guides serve you today?” Raven asked, laying on a thick Eastern European accent.

The man flipped a twenty-dollar bill on the table and flashed a smile that revealed blinding white teeth. “Well, I have been trying to locate something for quite some time, but it eludes me.”

Raven waved her hands over the crystal ball, using a simple charm to make smoke billow inside. “I am being given clues to your name by my spirits. Please, do not tell me.” Raven swayed from side to side, gazing into the crystal ball. “They are showing me a rose bush, but the flowers are wilted and dead. It is jagged and dangerous, just like you, Mister Thorn.”

The man applauded and dropped another bill on the table. “That is very impressive. Now, what can you tell about the thing that I seek?”

Raven lowered her head and felt the skin on the back of her neck begin to prickle as another man walked into the shop. He closed the door behind him and flipped the sign from open to closed. “I sense that you are looking for a lost article of jewelry. A wedding ring perhaps,” she said, feeding him nonsense.

“Are you trying to tell me that you do not sense that what I seek is sitting directly in front of me or that you are in immediate danger?”

Raven moved quickly, jumping up and pushing the table aside without ever laying a hand on it. The fast-moving piece of furniture knocked Thorn out of his chair and sent him to the ground, but it also opened a clear path for the other man in the shop. Before Raven could do anything else, she felt two sharp objects hit her in the chest. Stumbling backward, she fell into a book display and went down under the weight of it all coming down on her. Raven tried to stand, but the world around her spun until she blacked out.

She awoke to find herself naked and strapped to a metal table, unable to move or rid herself of the waves of cold washing over her body. One of the leather straps was pulled tight across her forehead, making it impossible to see around the room. Moving her eyes as far as possible to the left, she saw a metal IV pole beside her, a tube extending out and into her arm. Looking in the other direction, she saw Thorn lying on a table, nude but not held in place.

“You are awake, Raven. How splendid.”

She tried to speak, but it felt as though there were cotton balls stuffed in her mouth. Tears of frustration spilled down her face as she tried to break free of the bonds. Numb and powerless, she wanted to scream, but nothing came.

Raven felt panic rise inside as a man in scrubs and a face mask appeared at her side, inserting a needle attached to a tube into the crook of her arm. The insertion was little more than a feeling of slight pressure on her skin, but it felt like an invasion. She watched as the man moved over to Thorn and pushed a needle into his arm.

“You look frightened, dear. Don’t be. This will all be over soon enough, and then you can go to the beautiful room that we have prepared for you.”

Feeling some of the wooziness begin to melt away, Raven gritted her teeth and tried to summon her strength. The man in scrubs seemed to notice her efforts as he moved over to the IV pole and upped the dosage, sending fresh waves of icy cold through her body.

“We have some time to kill here while we perform this procedure. Would you like me to share what is happening with you?” Thorn asked.

Raven clenched her fists and tried to scream again.

Ignoring her apparent anger, Thorn began. “I have had my eye on you since before you landed in San Francisco. I knew of you when you were Clarissa in New Orleans and Beatrix in Savannah. You have done a fine job of covering your path through the ages, but when you have the money and means that I do, those covered tracks can very easily come to light.”

Licking her lips, Raven managed to whisper, “You know nothing of my power. If you did, you would let me go now.”

“I know everything there is to know about you, Raven, or should I call you by your given name? Baba Yaga?”

“Let me loose, and I shall spare you.”

Thorn shook his head and tutted. “You are not going anywhere. You are about to become the best exhibit in my collection to date. You will also help make me all-powerful by donating a little of your blood to my cause. All of my guests make this donation so that soon I may become the most powerful being the world has ever seen.”

Raven closed her eyes and blocked out the sound of Thorn’s voice. She listened to the rush of blood pounding in her ears and imagined it warming her body from top to bottom. It took a moment, but the cold waves began to recede, replaced by a comfortable warmth that felt like a cozy blanket. The world around her slipped away until all that remained was the sound of the blood whooshing through her veins, growing warmer as it sped up. Sweat broke out all over her body as the blood grew warmer. “Boil,” she whispered.

A blood-curdling scream snapped her out of the fugue state. Her skin, which was lobster red, began to return to its natural state, but on the other table, Thorn was burning from the inside out down one side.

“Get it out of me,” he screamed. “Sweet Jesus, it burns.”

The doctors removed the tube and clamped it, but not before a pool of blood gathered on the floor. Thorn went down into it face first, screaming again as the red-hot liquid seared the flesh off the side of his face and leaked into his eye socket, causing the eyeball to burst with a loud pop.

“Sedate that fucking bitch and spread her legs. DO IT NOW.”

The coldness returned as the medicine coursed through her veins. Her eyelids drooped, but the doctors use spreaders to hold them open. Her eyes stung, the overhead light burning into her retinas. Thorn provided some relief as he stood over her and blocked out the light.

“Look at me, you cunt. Look at what you have done.”

“So handsome,” Raven slurred.

“You will never see the light of day again. I will banish you to a prison that I will make into a living hell. Your little plaything is already down there waiting for you. He is so very scared, as he should be.”

“Silas,” she gasped.

“It’s an ugly child you have. How about we try to give you a pretty one? Would you like that?”

Raven tried to squirm, but the bonds and the sedatives removed all the fight. She stared into space as Thorn climbed on top of her, thinking of the ways she would kill him when she got the chance. The image of his being torn piece by piece calmed her as he grunted and moaned and had his way.

When he finished, Thorn removed the eyelid spreaders and leaned in close. “How did that feel? Did you like that, you fucking whore?”

Raven blinked furiously, trying to combat the feeling of sand spilled in her eyes. When she got the feeling back, she saw Thorn still on top of her and could feel him going limp inside her. “I can guarantee that your suffering will last a good deal longer than your pathetic fumblings.”

Slapping her across the face with his good hand, Thorn climbed off and hissed as his burned foot made contact with the floor. With his anger now subsiding, the pain began to take him in its grip. “Help me,” he said as the doctors lifted him onto a gurney and rushed him out of the room.

***

Dropping her arm to her side, Raven turned and looked out the cell, where the Rake sat, obedient as ever. She felt invigorated after her rest, although not yet strong enough to make a move. Raven thought about trying her magic with something small but feared that doing so would deplete her already tapped reserves.

One more day should do it. For now, it was all about building strength and thinking about how to repay Thorn for all the bad that he had done.

Share

Subscribe now

Rebecca stared out the window of the SUV and ignored all attempts to engage her in conversation. Terry wasn’t saying much of anything, maybe because he was in shock or perhaps because Rebecca has refused to clean up the blood splattered on her face. Selina and Craig had tried their best to console her, but she didn’t feel as though she could trust them. Her whole life felt like a lie, and reconciling all of that could not begin until she got some answers from Thorn.

She watched the world fly by as they sped along the highway, their vehicle leading a small convoy of vans and trucks, trying to think about what she would say to the man she now knew to be her father. Would she feel sympathy for him or some strange connection, or would she rage at him, perhaps unleashing another round of powers that she now knew were inside her?

“We are about five minutes out,” Drake called to no one in particular.

Shifting in her seat, Rebecca looked at the man sitting up front in the passenger seat. He had introduced himself as the head of security for Thorn Industries, but she thought he looked more like a trashy European villain from a cheesy eighties action movie. It was the unshaven look, the sunglasses at night, and the designer shirt opened one button further than necessary that made Rebecca feel that way.

Feeling her eyes boring a hole into his skull, Drake turned around and said, “Everyone okay back there?”

Craig and Selina, who sat in the middle row, both flashed a thumbs up while Terry mumbled something unintelligible. Rebecca continued to stare, trying to get inside Drake’s head the way she had done with Silas. Nothing happened, though, so she turned away and looked out the window again, angry at herself for not being able to penetrate the man’s thoughts.

The SUV slowed as it approached the ruined security gate, which was now guarded by a trio of personnel armed to the gills. Drake flashed his identification and briefly spoke to one of the men before the vehicle sped up again and headed for the massive warehouse up ahead. They passed through another security gate and pulled into a parking lot in front of a loading dock.

Rebecca was a little surprised at the final stop. She had imagined that they would be meeting Thorn at some mega-mansion overlooking the Pacific Ocean, not a warehouse where they made memory cards and motherboards. She stepped out into the night air and shrugged off Drake as he tried to help her out of the vehicle. “I’ve told you all already. No one, and I mean no one, but Terry gets to put their hand on me. Are we clear?”

Bowing slightly, Drake took a step back, pulling off his sunglasses and tucking them into the pocket of his shirt. “Crystal. If you would care to follow me, I’ll show you to Mister Thorn’s office.”

They fell in line behind Drake and followed him up a set of stairs in the loading dock that led into the lobby that housed the elevators. One of them sat with the doors open, a pair of men in hazmat suits scrubbing down the interior.

“Is that an arm sticking out of that bucket?” Terry asked, aghast.

Drake doubled back and took Terry by the elbow, leading him away from the open elevator. “Nothing for you to worry about, sir. Please, come with me.”

The doors to the other elevator slid open as soon as Drake placed his palm on the scanner. They all stepped inside and moved to the back, save for Drake, who held the door open with his foot.

“What are you doing?” Rebecca asked impatiently.

“We have two more coming.”

He stepped back as a pair of men, who could have passed as brothers, stepped into the elevator, laptop bags slung over their shoulders.

“Who are these guys?” Rebecca asked.

“This would be our IT specialists Bits and Bytes.”

Throwing her head back, Rebecca laughed and shook her head. “Unbelievable. We’ve just shifted from a horror movie into a James Bond flick. How cool.”

“Don’t be rude, Becky,” Selina barked.

“Let it go,” Craig chimed in.

Glaring at the woman that she had believed was her mother for the past quarter-century, Rebecca fought the urge to vent her anger and frustration. Closing her eyes and exhaling, she said, “You’re right. I apologize. Nice to meet you both, Bits and Bytes.”

The men nodded and then stepped out into the lobby outside Thorn’s office, walking briskly to Janet’s now unoccupied desk, where they began setting up their laptops.

“Please wait here a moment,” Drake said as he knocked on the office door and stepped inside.

Rebecca moved around the room, taking in some of the artifacts on display but mostly trying to keep an eye on what the computer guys were up to at the desk. She trusted no one but Terry, and her heart sank a little as she saw him slumped in a chair, looking confused and scared. She went to him and sat at his feet, taking his hands, which hung loosely by his side. “Are you hanging in there, my love?”

“Why didn’t you wash your face?”

“Huh?”

“So much blood. I-I don’t even know how you got that thing off me, let alone how you killed it. How can that be? I was there with you. Why don’t I know what happened?”

Rebecca kissed his hands and then leaned in and kissed his forehead. “It was all so fast, but it felt super slow to me. I can’t adequately explain it, but something happened to me back there.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to right now. Just know that I am always going to protect you. No person or thing is ever going to get near you again. You got it?”

He smiled, but his eyes remained soulless and dead looking. “Can you please wash your face?”

“I will, I promise, but I need Thorn to see what I did to one of his precious museum pieces.”

The office door opened, and Drake stepped out. “Mister Thorn will see you now, Miss Grainger.”

Rebecca stood and helped Terry to his feet. “Let’s go talk to this psycho.”

“Just you, Miss Grainger.”

“I’m not going anywhere without him,” she barked.

“Please. No harm is going to come to Terry while we are here. Craig and Selina will look after him while you have a chat with Mister Thorn.”

“It’s okay,” Terry mumbled.

Planting another kiss on his forehead, Rebecca marched into the office, muttering “asshole” to Drake as she blew past him. She made a beeline for the desk and sat down, waiting for Thorn to turn around.

The billionaire stared out the window, watching the woman’s reflection as she entered his office. It was amazing how much she looked like her mother, and from the brief report he had received from Drake, her powers were just as strong, maybe even more so. He turned his powerchair and smiled at the woman sitting across from him. “Good evening, Miss Grainger, or may I call you Rebecca?”

“You may not.”

“Miss Grainger it is then. Can I offer you a drink or perhaps a wet wipe for your face? That blood is rather jarring.”

“You are seriously going to look at me with that mug of yours and talk about how I look?” Rebecca shot back.

“Touche.”

“I have questions.”

“I’m sure you do, and I am happy to answer them all.” Thorn opened the desk drawer and pulled out a stack of folders, which he placed next to the laptop in front of him. “I have been prepared for your visit for quite some time. We have, as I am sure you now know, been keeping an eye on you.”

“Maybe I will take that drink,” Rebecca said. “And a washcloth.”

“What’s your poison, dear?”

“Gin and tonic.”

Thorn snapped his fingers and pointed at the cabinet holding the alcohol. “An iced water for me, Lionel, if you don’t mind.”

Rebecca watched as the security man poured the drinks and then headed to the private bathroom attached to the office. He handed Rebecca a damp cloth before delivering their drinks and moving back to his spot by the office door.

“A security guard and a personal bartender all rolled into one. You must be paying him well,” Rebecca said.

“Lionel makes out just fine. Now, questions, let me hear them.”

After wiping her face and placing the soiled cloth on the corner of the desk, Rebecca picked up her drink and ran her finger around the rim of the glass. “Where was I born?”

“In a separate facility on these grounds.”

“Why was I allowed to leave while Ag…my mother remained imprisoned?”

Thorn steepled his fingers and tapped them against his chin. “How can I put this delicately? We perform certain experiments here. Now, some might claim that doing these things makes me as much of a monster as the things I collect, but I am not without compassion and mercy. You were a precious, innocent baby. My experiment with you was all about nurture versus nature.”

“How so?”

“Simple, really. If I had left you in the care of your mother, I do not doubt that you would have become just like her, powers and all. The exciting thing for me, though, was to watch how you would develop naturally.”

Swallowing down the gin in a single shot, Rebecca slid the empty glass across the desk. “Can you have your lackey pour me another, please and thank you?”

Without prompt, Drake retrieved the empty glass and went to refill it.

“Are you sure that this was an experiment or were you simply worried that your seed would produce an unspectacular child?”

Blood rushed to Thorn’s face. Rebecca could not tell whether it was from shame or anger, but she got a kick out of the reaction.

“It seems I struck a nerve.”

Clearing his throat, Thorn regained some of his composure. “You seem to be suggesting that I am your father. Whatever would make you think that?”

“Silas showed me before he bled out like a stuck pig on my bedroom floor.”

Throwing his head back as though struck on the chin, Thorn’s eyes went wide. “How did he manage that?”

“I’m asking the questions, Daddy. How did my mother escape?”

“It was all caught on surveillance cameras. Lionel will show it to you once we are finished here.”

“Two more questions, and then we can wrap this up. What else got out with her, and how are you planning on keeping my boyfriend and I safe until you round them all up again?”

Thorn flipped the laptop around so that it was facing Rebecca. “I would suggest that you can keep yourself safe at this point. I think you proved that tonight.”

“I have no idea how I did what I did, though. It wasn’t something I controlled.”

“We can help you with that, help you harness your powers and learn how to use them to your advantage.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Curiosity, for one thing. I want to know what powers you possess. Don’t you want the same now that you’ve had a taste?”

It was Rebecca’s turn to flush. She hated to agree with Thorn, but she had to admit that what she had done earlier that night had been as thrilling as it was terrifying. “Maybe I do,” she confessed.

“I knew it.” Thorn pumped his fist and smiled widely. “I should tell you, though, that I would also like your help in getting my creatures back. I feel like you owe me after killing one of them.”

Drake reached over and placed the freshly refilled glass beside her. The piney scent of the gin tickled her nostrils and made her mouth water, but Rebecca resisted the urge to down the drink like she had the previous one.

“So, what do you think about my proposal?” Thorn asked.

“Tell me about the things that escaped.”

Reaching over the top of the laptop, Thorn pressed a couple of keys and produced the image of a rail-thin humanoid creature with dark eyes. The picture showed it on all fours, mouth open as it appeared to scream at the photographer. He tossed the first of the folders over to Rebecca, who flipped it open. “The Rake. You may have heard of this one on the Creepypasta website. We planted the original story so that people would believe it to be nothing more than some urban legend, but he is quite real. He is also fast and prone to acts of violence, especially if it means getting a taste of human flesh. Our best guess is that Raven chose him as her personal attack dog.”

Rebecca flipped through the file and felt her stomach turn as she came upon a series of pictures showing a group of armed men torn to pieces. “Jesus.”

“Indeed. A tough one to capture.” Thorn tapped the keyboard again and another image popped on the screen. This time, it was what looked to be an older woman whose flesh appeared to be melting off her body. It seemed as though she had talons on her hands and feet, all of which looked a good deal sharper than the shard of glass Rebecca had wielded earlier. “The Aswang. A shapeshifting creature that can become anything human that it touches. She was our newest addition, but she helped start the breakout before we could get her locked up.”

Rebecca opened the folder that Thorn handed to her and shook her head. “This is crazy.”

“She will help Raven get into places without too much commotion by shifting. It’s how she got her out of here. Next up is the Nuckelavee.”

The screen flipped to an image of a man on a horse, both of them missing their skin. Rebecca felt bile rise in her throat at the sight of the exposed bones and sinew. “That is grotesque.”

“Yes, but also beautiful in a weird kind of way. The Nuckelavee does not like fresh water, but get him in the ocean, and he will get you where you want to go and quickly. A convenient friend to have when looking to make a quick escape by water. Raven chose her friends wisely.”

“Is there more?” Rebecca asked, reaching for her glass.

“One more.” Thorn tapped the keyboard one more time. “The Wenlutah. A wendigo/human hybrid native to one specific forest in Oregon. A ferocious meat eater, this thing will tear you apart and devour every scrap, bones and all.”

Of all the creatures Thorn had shown her, the Wenlutah struck her as the most beautiful, albeit in a weird way. Its head looked like the skull of a massive antlered animal, and while it too was missing large chunks of flesh, its lean muscles were visually appealing. It had long arms and huge clawed hands, while its legs looked similar to those of a grasshopper.

“This is the only one that I consider to be disposable,” Thorn said. “There is a herd of his brethren still roaming the forest, so catching another one should not be a problem.”

Pushing the folders aside, Rebecca took a sip of her fresh drink and looked over the top of her glass at Thorn. “This all seems a bit much for someone who was teaching second graders a couple of days ago. I don’t believe I’m up to the task.”

“Is it a matter of money? The house is yours to keep, and I can deposit a sizeable amount of cash into your account and set things up to make it look like you won the lottery. Imagine, no more early mornings and days spent dealing with bratty, snot-nosed kids whose parents all look down on you.”

“I’m happy with my life the way it is, snot-nosed kids and all.”

“I see,” Thorn said, nodding over in the direction of Drake.

“All I ask is that you keep us safe until those things are either dead or back behind bars.”

“Plan B it is then,” Thorn said, tapping at the laptop one more time. A live camera feed of a prison cell replaced the image of the Wenlutah. Terry gripped the bars and appeared to be yelling, but no sound came out of the speakers.

Rebecca leaped to her feet and pushed the laptop off the desk, taking satisfaction in the cracking sound it made as it hit the floor. She closed her eyes and let the rage build inside her, the heat of her anger spreading out through her body, all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. She felt the floor begin to vibrate under her feet, watching as the items on the office shelves began to lift into the air.

Rebecca turned her attention to an animal skull with a single horn in the center of its head. She made it turn in the air until it was pointing directly at Thorn. Before she could launch it, though, she felt a hand on her shoulder and a pinching sensation in her neck. Her head lolled to one side, where Drake stood holding an empty syringe, arms outstretched, waiting to catch her as she fell.

Share

Subscribe now

Chapter Seven

Selina stepped away from the living room window, a look of concern etched on her face. “Craig, have you heard any more from Thorn?”

“Nothing. Why?”

Motioning him over to the window, Selina pulled the curtain aside. “Look at the fog.”

“It’s San Francisco, Selina. Fog is rather common.”

“Would you just look at it?”

Craig peered out the window, watching as the mist rolled past. Nothing looked out of the ordinary right away, but the more he looked, the more he began to see shapes form in the fog. It looked as though fingers were starting to form as it drifted past, each one pointing at the house before folding in on themselves. He went to pull the curtains closed, but Rebecca stopped him.

“Let me see,” she said.

Stepping aside, Craig made space for her at the window, keeping an eye on the street, as much of it as he could see, looking for any sign of movement.

“What do you think is causing that light?” Rebecca asked.

“What light?”

“The green one. It looks like someone is shooting a laser pointer down the street.”

They all crowded around the window, staring at the rolling fog but seeing no light.

“There’s nothing but fog, baby,” Terry said.

“You are telling me you can’t see that light? Are you blind? It’s pointing directly at the house.”

Terry squinted and looked again but shook his head. “I’m not seeing it.”

Pulling the curtains closed, Craig shepherded the group back to the dining room table. “Let’s all just sit here and wait until our people arrive. It should be any time now.”

As if on cue, Craig’s smartphone began to vibrate, rattling against the wooden table. He snatched it up and took the call, nodding for a second before ending the call without ever saying a word. “They are five minutes out. Be ready to move.”

THUMP!!

Something heavy hit the front door, causing everyone at the table to jump. Selina was the first to move, running to the bottom of the stairs, weapon raised and pointing at the door. “Get her upstairs. NOW.”

Grabbing a handful of Rebecca’s shirt, Craig pulled her off the chair and half-dragged her to the foot of the stairs. Turning back, he saw Terry still sitting at the table. “Are you coming, or should I put you out of your misery now?”

That seemed to do the trick. Terry crouched low and scampered to the stairs, following Craig and Rebecca up to the master bedroom.

“Stay in here and do not come out until I tell you to,” Craig said as he pulled the door closed.

While Terry sat on the bed looking dazed and confused, Rebecca went to the window and looked up and down the street. The fog was so thick now that the houses across the way were little more than shadows, the swirling mist making it look as though they were moving, advancing on Rebecca’s home like Lovecraftian terrors risen from the deep. If Craig and Selina were telling the truth, then monsters might indeed be real.

Rebecca angled her head so that she could see down to the front door. The outside light was on, but she could see nothing out there that might have been responsible for the banging on the door. She moved to the bedroom door and cracked it open, only to see Craig standing at the top of the stairs, gun in hand. He hissed at her and motioned at her to close the door.

Moving to the bed, she sat down beside her boyfriend and placed an arm around his shoulders. “Are you buying any of this?” she asked.

“Why would they lie, babe?”

“You really think I have some magical powers that I’ve been hiding since birth?”

Terry shrugged, refusing to make eye contact as he spoke. “I don’t know about that part, but the monster collection thing freaks me out.” He eventually lifted his head and looked at Rebecca. “What about you? Did you ever doubt that they were anything other than your parents?”

“Hell no. They have always been loving and supportive, not just to me but to each other. It makes no sense. They say that they gave up the last twenty-five years of their lives to babysit me. Why would anyone do that?”

“Thorn. That’s a man with more money than sense if you ask me. If he owns this entire neighborhood, then he probably owns the people, too.”

THUMP.

Rebecca almost tripped as she pushed away from the bed and went back to the window. She pressed her forehead against the glass and shielded her eyes with her hands, trying desperately to see through the fog.

“Is something out there?” Terry asked.

“Nothing that I can see.”

THUMP.

“Babe, that’s coming from inside the house,” Terry said, pushing himself back on the bed and further away from the door.

“Oh, to hell with all this,” Rebecca yelled as she charged across the bedroom and out into the hallway. The first thing she noticed was that Craig was gone. Peering over the railing, she saw Selina still crouched at the front door, gun pointed at the door. “Where’s Craig?”

“Basement. Get back in your room, please.”

THUMP THUMP.

THUMP THUMP.

“Selina, that noise is coming from inside the house.”

“We know. That’s why your father is in the basement. Get back inside and close that door. Help is almost here.”

Catching movement out the corner of her eye, Rebecca turned just in time to see the door to the laundry chute pop open. A pair of tiny hands appeared at the top of the door, followed by a horned head. Rebecca screamed, causing the bedroom floor to shake, as the imp pulled itself free of the chute and ran at her.

It made it a couple of steps, its large flaccid penis flopping from side to side as it ran, before Terry grabbed it by the tail and halted its progress. The imp let out a frustrated scream as it flailed at the air, trying to get at its attacker.

“What should I do with it?” Terry wailed.

“Throw it back down the laundry chute.”

Enraged, the imp twisted its body at an unnatural angle and sank its teeth into Terry’s hand. It was enough to loosen the grip on its tail, and once free, it clambered up Terry’s arm, teeth bared and ready to clamp down on his neck.

“Get off him, you fucking FREEEEEEAAAAAAAK.” As she screamed, Rebecca felt everything around her begin to slow down. The pitch of her voice changed until her high-pitched scream turned into a low, rumbling drone. She watched as the walls began to move outward, as though the house was exhaling slowly. The movement of the imp was down to a crawl as time thought about ceasing to exist.

Rebecca expected to feel as though she were moving in a dream, but she could function normally. As she tried to adjust to the sensation, the house inhaled, and the window shattered, sending shards of glass flying into the room. She watched as the pieces drifted lazily through the air, heading in her direction. Stepping forward, she selected the largest, sharpest piece and brushed the rest to the floor.

The imp was still making its slow ascent up Terry’s arm, its leathery skin glistening with sweat. Rebecca reached out and pulled on one of its horns, exposing the devil’s neck. Focusing on the flesh, she could see the carotid artery rise up, could sense the blood running through it. She flipped the shard of glass in her hand and slashed downward, the sharp end tearing through the exposed artery with ease. Blood leaked out through the wound, the droplets floating out like liquid let loose in zero gravity.

A loud creaking noise filled the room, and for a moment, Rebecca thought that the house was collapsing in on itself. The sound, though, came from the door to the room opening at the slowed-down pace of the world around her. “Enough,” she whispered.

Rebecca fell to her knees as time caught up with her, the blood from the imp’s neck splashing against her face on the way down. The creature fell beside her, clutching at its throat as it struggled to breathe. She looked at it and could see its wretched life play out in her head. She also sensed that it meant no harm, which was confusing to her.

“Rebecca. What happened?” Selina said as she burst through the bedroom door.

Ignoring the question, Rebecca looked the imp in the eye and smiled. “Goodnight, sweet Silas,” she said as she plunged the shard of glass into its chest. “No more pain.”

Footsteps thundered out in the hallway as the rescue team, led by Lionel Drake, ran into the house. Drake forced his way into the room and tried to help Rebecca to her feet.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” she spat.

Drake surveyed the damage in the room and stepped back, hands raised in surrender. “I’m only trying to help, ma’am.”

“You want to know how you can help?”

“Whatever you need.”

“Take me to my father.”

Craig stepped forward and held out his hand. “I’m right here, honey.”

Rebecca stared him down with a look of disgust. “I said, my father. Take me to Spencer Thorn.”

***

Raven tossed and turned in the bunk, sweat falling off her in waves. She clutched at her neck, feeling a jolt of pain pulse out from under her skin. Eyes fluttering, she sat up in the bunk and gagged, the coppery taste of blood caught in the back of her throat. “Silas,” she whispered.

Leaning over the side of the bunk, Raven hacked and coughed and then shrieked as pain, sharp as a thousand razor blades dragged across her flesh all at once, hit her in the chest.

When the agony passed, she opened her eyes and said, “Rebecca.”

Buy Me A Mythical Creature

Share