Secrets of Goth Mountain
Page 27
CHAPTER 11
NIGHTMARES
Dark had hidden Ned and Dooley and was now moving towards Goth Mountain.
Both his captives still lived. The human had resisted all his efforts to obtain information. Dark had backed off before killing him, because if he lived longer he would suffer more, and possibly give him useful information. Dooley Simple would tell him everything, in time.
The shape shifter he could use as a hostage, should some of the goat man’s powerful friends appear. But most important, he was bait, to ensure that others of the People would appear. He had been searching world-wide for their hiding place off and on for centuries, and he felt certain that this time he was close to finding it. This time when he faced them he would be ready.
Now Dark hungered, and needed to again feed. He hadn’t expected to find anyone until he got to the Goth place or the Reservation, but in the forest he chanced across two men, hunting out of season. He howled in delight.
“What the hell was that?” asked the taller one. “It wasn’t a damned Sasquatch, we’ve heard them before.”
“A wolf then,” the other one replied. “Let’s get the son-of-a-bitch.”
“That wasn’t no wolf.”
“I don’t give a shit what it is, let’s get it. We ain’t seen no fresh bear sign today, but this critter will do just fine. Its head will fit on my wall no matter what it is.” He removed the high-powered rifle from his shoulder sling and hand signaled an advance towards the wooded hill where the howl had seemed to come from.
They had taken only a few steps when a second spine-tingling howl erupted from behind them, much closer than the first. The hunters stopped in their tracks, uncertain now as to which way to proceed.
Howling erupted from the left of them, then from the right, so close that they should have been able to see the creatures. They saw nothing.
“They’re hunting us, Clevis!” said the taller hunter. “The hell with this!” He turned to retrace his path, took two steps, and froze.
Five meters in front of him stood a nightmarish apparition from out of a werewolf movie, a huge, black, hairy, wolf-man creature standing on its back legs, massive wolf head snarling, sharp white teeth dripping streams of frothy saliva and glowing red eyes squinting at him, full of hate. It dropped down onto clawed front feet and charged on all fours with impossible speed and power, blood-red eyes fixed on its prey’s eyes, freezing the man in terror.
The hapless hunter started to scream and raise his gun but in moments was crushed to the ground as huge jaws snapped shut on his neck and completely tore off his head, then in a frenzy of sadistic viciousness tore apart the lifeless body with tooth and claw, filling the air with splashes of blood and bits of shredded human flesh, bone and internal organs.
Clevis stood in silent shock for the few moments it took for his brother to be massacred, but then charged towards the horrific scene, madly screaming as he shot bullet after bullet into the nightmarish creature, emptying the rifle, but with no visible effect.
The monster ignored him completely until he was almost on top of it, then looked up at him with its terrible red eyes and spoke to him with perfect clarity. “You’re next, Clevis,” it hissed, before rearing back its bloody head and howling into the air, a sound like the torture of a thousand lost souls.
The useless rifle dropped from his limp, trembling hands as Clevis turned to run, sobbing and babbling incoherently.
Dark could taste the fleeing man’s delicious terror, feel his gasps for breath and sense his pounding heart. Almost casually, he crushed his first victim’s skull, ripped it open, and ate the bloody brain in great chunks. He took his time in order to give his second victim a really good head start. Then he set off swiftly on all fours after him, howling, reveling in his dark power. But not too swiftly. Such pleasures shouldn’t be rushed.