Dark Reality 7-Book Boxed Set

by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

  ***

  Eugene approached Gabriel, Melissa, Alexandra and the mystery Asian man unhurriedly but with purpose. He halted from time to time to sniff the air. It had become saturated with the bodily secretions of all present. Adrenaline was the most prevalent note, pungent and acrid, indicative of intense emotions swirling about. He wrestled to contain the urge to charge them, tear each of their limbs from them and watch them die slowly. He knew he would have the opportunity to do just that but wanted to relish the moments leading up to it equally as much. Experience had broadened his knowledge base further regarding death, opened an anticipatory realm of enjoyment to him. He learned that delaying gratification made the final act all the more fulfilling.

  Suppressing a shudder, he moved at a slow pace and saw only one officer detaining Gabriel and his pathetic human companions. He was surprised by how well his plan had worked out, how easily human beings were manipulated–even those in positions of authority. He listened as the officer, too pompous to heed their warnings, did not bother to turn around despite Melissa’s incessant pleas. He felt a swell of anger at the notion that the pathetic officer deemed himself too important, too powerful to acknowledge a member of the same species, that somehow his uniform and badge earned him a position of superiority. Superior humans seemed an oxymoron, a contradiction in terms. They were all fools, cattle awaiting slaughter.

  Eugene felt his pace increase the angrier he became. He took larger steps, covering the distance between them faster and faster until he was arms-length from the armed policeman. In one swift motion, he grabbed the uniformed drone by the back of his head and smashed his face through the rear window of his cruiser. He immediately pulled him from the fractured glass and spun him to see if he had died. To Eugene’s delight, the officer lived.

  “I guess you should have listened to the murdering bitch,” he sneered then watched as a look of horror clouded his expression.

  The tortured guise of pain and the smell of blood threatened to frenzy him. He longed to kill him slowly, watch as each shred of life escaped him, but knew Melissa and her friends had scattered. Their deaths would be slow. He would have time to spend on them. He breathed deeply to control the fitful rage that coursed through his veins as he raised his free hand and clutched the officer by the throat. He stared into his eyes and thought about the affectation produced by the drab uniform and tin badge he donned. Eugene clamped his massive hand and applied every ounce of his might. He felt bone yield beneath his grip and saw the officer’s eyes widen and bulge briefly before staring straight ahead vacantly, lifelessly.

  A ripple tore through Eugene, involuntary and powerful. He doubled over in exhilaration and noticed the gun that lay on the ground by his feet. He abhorred guns. He promptly picked up the deceased man’s armament and released the bullets from its chamber before rocketing it into the black abyss. He returned his focus to Gabriel, Alexandra, Melissa and the small Asian man. They looked on in shock, in horror. They had spread out temporarily only to return to their cluster formation, well aware that running would be futile. They knew they could not outrun him, could not hide from him. There was no escape. He would always find them. They had no choice but to fight.

  Eugene stepped toward Gabriel and saw in his peripheral vision that the small man had scampered toward the dead officer and grabbed the nightstick from his utility belt. As he turned toward the scurrying man, Gabriel attacked from behind. Eugene turned and swung but missed. Gabriel appeared to move faster than he had previously, and more skillfully. He even managed to land several blows against Eugene’s body but the blows were ineffective; they did not slow him.

  Without warning, he felt the nightstick land against the back of his head. Eugene howled out angry and frustrated, he turned only to feel the same weapon strike his face. The small man managed to hit him not once, but twice. He moved with remarkable speed for a human, an attribute that served to both vex and impress Eugene. Presented with a worthy adversary, he began to enjoy himself. No longer willing to repeat the mistake of underestimating his opponent, he paid closer attention to the stick wielding man as he advanced again and launched a fast, dextrous attack.

  Though the man was fast, he was still only fast by human standards. Eugene caught the nightstick mid-swing and grabbed the assailant by the collar of his shirt. He then effortlessly tossed him into the windshield of the cruiser. Glass exploded and showered in every direction. Unfazed by the shards of shattered windshield, Eugene, motivated by a single purpose, moved toward his diminutive adversary eager to kill.

  Gabriel, determined to thwart his objective, jumped in front of him and landed a powerful punch to his throat. A burst of pain accompanied by difficulty breathing disoriented him temporarily. He wheezed and gasped and tried to catch his breath. As he coughed and sputtered, Gabriel seized opportunity to strike him in the nose. Eugene was not certain but guessed his nasal septum had been comprised. His hands reflexively went to his nose, which bled profusely. Gabriel spun and kicked him, hard, in the abdomen. He felt himself fall backward and slam into the parked car, before falling to the ground.

  Vitriol held him as an unpleasant but not entirely unfamiliar sensation burned through him: disgrace. Eugene had been disgraced and humiliated by Terzini’s failed champion. The love-struck answer to the mistakes of humanity had successfully broken his nose and managed to topple him. But he would not enjoy victory for long.

  Eugene sprung to his feet and straightened himself, flexing each of his imposing muscles simultaneously. He felt the power of pure hatred surge through him, energize him. Nourished by fury, he was prepared to unleash the fullest extent of his wrath ever. His insides quavered violently as his inherent bloodlust motivated him as never before. Gabriel advanced again, undoubtedly intending to assail him with another of his uninspiring new martial arts maneuvers. Eugene halted Gabriel’s attack, however, by launching his large fist forward almost instantaneously and blasted him in the chest. On impact, he detected the sound of at least two ribs fracturing. Gabriel clutched his midsection and Eugene swung his hand connecting the backside of it with Gabriel’s face. He watched as Gabriel fell to the ground but did not waste time. He wanted to rectify the disgrace he’d instigated. He walked toward him panting with excitement, fighting to not succumb to an all-encompassing shudder that would render him paralyzed by elation, and began to kick and stomp at him.

  The harder he kicked the more exhilarated he became, the more challenging fending off the euphoric blackout became. Sweat poured from his brow as he continued his blitz. It wasn’t until a whimper of despair distracted him and caused him to reconsider his course of attack. Melissa huddled with her friend at the front of the shiny red car they arrived in. He left Gabriel, a battered mass of flesh, where he lay and moved to Melissa.

  “Now you’re going to watch her die before I kill you,” he said and enjoyed the tortured look of misery in Gabriel’s face as he tried desperately to rise to his feet.

  Eugene pulled Melissa by her frail arm and realized he would enjoy murdering her with a terrified audience more than he could have imagined. He would kill her slowly and satisfy two needs at once: his savagery and Gabriel’s misery. Both entertained him. Both thrilled him.

  With Melissa’s willowy arm dwarfed by his enormous hand, he swung her toward him and swung his cupped free hand at her concurrently. The impact of his hand against her cheek produced a loud whack and sent her flimsy body backward until it collapsed against the car. He had hit her hard enough to hurt her, but not kill her. He dared not sully the climax of his torture with a quick death.

  As he loomed over her deciding precisely how to brutalize her, a high-pitched sound tore through the night and pierced the darkness. The sound was unlike any he’d ever heard before. It slashed at his eardrums with razor-sharp shrillness. He covered his ears against it and turned in the direction of the sound. From the darkened shadows surrounding the three vehicles, a hunche
d and hulking shape emerged. Best described as a partially formed human, Eugene saw the creature just as it lunged at him. He did not have time to raise his arms protectively or step out of its path. It was immediately upon him.