Blood Lust: A Supernatural Horror (13 page)

BOOK: Blood Lust: A Supernatural Horror
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A loud knock at the door and a yell by the doorman
who
ogled her suggestively each time she passed through the lobby startled the creature. She tried to scream but her face was pressed too tightly against the creature’s clammy skin. Then she was airborne. She looked down in abject horror at the city below her fearing that the creature would release her from its
iron
grip to plummet hundreds of feet to the ground. She closed her eyes for the dizzying ride above rooftops, opening them only when the creature veered sharply to clear the steeple of a church. She opened them again when the creature dropped her roughly on a cold, wet stone floor, but almost immediately lost consciousness.

Now, she lay in a dark, filthy room filled with the stench of death surrounding her. She tried to turn her head slightly and recognized that she was in an old chapel. Her blood
suddenly
went cold. She knew the one. She had seen it many times from her balcony. She had also seen it recently on the news. She was in the church where they had found the dead girls. She could even make out strips of crime scene tape strung from
stone
columns. Now the death odor frightened her. She knew what it was. It was no longer just an inconvenience but a threat. It could be her future.
She thought it ironic that the only time she had been to church in many years a vampire had brought her.

For vampire it was, not the Bela Lugosi-type vampire in a dark suit with hypnotic gaze, but a winged gray creature resembling a gargoyle born in the depths of hell. It had licked at the blood pouring from the wound in her right arm, the long sinuous tongue rough and slimy against her skin. The pain had been horrendous until some sedative in the saliva had deadened the arm. She had expected to die quickly. She had read about the other bodies found in the same church, drained of blood, but
to her amazement
,
the creature had retreated to its perch near the roof and remained there. There was no chance of escape. Every time she moved
,
the creature reacted
with a shrill call
.

At times in her delirium, she longed for death. Her entire life had been one long slow attempted suicide. Born rich, pampered and left on her own, she had quickly developed a disdain for her family and their semblance of normalcy. She had many supplicants but no friends, no one in which to confide her fears or to reel in her extremes. She had lived an empty life, void of love or hope. Drugs, sex and outrage had been her revenge.

Then, at other times as she lay there in the wet and filth and the stench, she prayed for just one more chance. She clung to life tooth and nail, daring to hope that the fact she was still alive meant something. She grew angry, would have attacked her tormentor with her bare hands if it had come close enough, but the creature simply waited
and watched
. She had no choice but to wait with it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6

 

Just after ten p.m.
I
once again
stood
before the walls of the monastery, eager to find the bastard responsible for the girls’ deaths.
We had parked our vehicles across the street out of sight
.
I
figured six uniforms would be
sufficient to
form a
perimeter.
I
did
n’t
want to discourage our killer, just keep
an eye
on him.
We would have no m
oon
until it rose at
four
a.m. and
the inside of the
old
church would be as dark as the inside of a bank vault.
Each of us carried flashlights but dared not use them.
I had my
police issue
.45 and Lew his
trusty
.38. The uniforms were equipped with
pump
12-gauge
shotguns
and their side arms.
They stood around me expectantly.


For God’s sake don’t use your flashlights and give away your position.
If you fire your weapon, shoot to kill
.
Our suspect is a murderer,

I reminded them. “He’s killed three girls, maybe four.”
I stared at each officer until they nodded that they understood.
If
we found
the Sattersby
girl’s
body was in
side
, I did
n’t
want to have an interrogation room interview with
her
killer; I wanted to look down at his cold dead body and
call the case closed
.

Lew had
his usual objections
. “The
c
aptain will want him alive if possible
for questioning
,” he argued. “The press is
on his ass
about
this case.”

“He can
hold a damn séance for all I care
,” I
snapped
, my rancor undisguised. “This guy
kills young girls
. I don’t want to see him sitting in
a
jail
cell at taxpayers

expense
until I retire
,
working on endless appeals.”

Lew nodded. He had voiced his objection like a good partner should and said nothing more about it.
We had worked together long enough for him to know I usually did
n’t
set out to kill someone we were after
. This case was different and he knew it. I suspect
ed
he agreed with me.
We walked around the
compound’s walls
as I pointed out
positions for the six officers that gave them both a good view of the premises and kept them out of sight. The side of the
compound parallel to
the riverbed was impassable
, a sheer wall
,
so
I ruled it out as a way in or out
.
That was my first mistake.
I
stationed one
man
out front
by the gates
, one in the rear of each of the two main building
s
and
fourth
covering the side entrance
by which we would enter
. Two
m
e
n
got a lucky break and drew stations
inside the
church
sanctuary
out of the
predicted
bad weather
, hidden on either side of the transept.
They would follow us in
side, keeping their distance
.
We
each
carried
walkie-talkies, but I
issued
strict orders to keep
the useless chatter down
unless they s
potted
our
killer
.

The
storm blew in from offshor
e
just after
midnight
with a
heavy downpour and a
lightning
display worthy of any Four
th
of July
spectacle
.
I looked up at the cloud-filled sky from the leaky shed under which we cowered and silently cursed my run of bad luck.
T
rudg
ing
through the rain dodging puddles
,
I
made
my
final
rounds making
certain our perimeter guards were
well
out of
sight
.
Satisfied we were as ready as we could be,
I turned to the other two officers waiting with us.


Follow us in
. Stay well back but
be ready to move in when I call.” I remembered how quick the bastard was. “He’s fast,” I warned. “
Don’t bother with a warning shot.”

Lew and I entered the church. Walking down
the
hallway
with no light
was a test of wills – mine against
every object
into which
I ba
n
ged my shin
.
Flashes of
lightning
through the broken windows stabbed
my eyes with fire
, creating spots of light
on my retinas
.
After stumbling around for five minutes
, I called a halt.

“We have to let our eyes adjust to the dark,” I said.

Lew glanced out the windows
at the lightning doubtfully but nodded.

We stood
in the shadows
for
fifteen minutes
to let our natural night vision engage.
I could tell from his
anxious
stance that Lew was eager to
continue
, but the chances were slim that the Sattersby girl was
still
alive. Going in too early and too noisily would risk
alerting
her killer
.
When I could
well enough
see to move around by the light filtering in through the dirty windows, I judged we were ready
.

T
he sanctuary
of the old church
was empty, as I figured it would be.
I motioned the two officers to positions
at the chained front door of the church and
another
just outside the hallway and waited until they had disappeared into the shadows.
Yellow police tape still barred the
hallway leading
to the
monastery’s chapel.
I slipped under
the tape
and held it up for Lew. We
paused
, listening
,
but all I could hear was the
deep
rumble of thunder
from outside
.
Taking a deep breath
,
I
crept
down the corridor to the open door
into the
chapel
.

“I’ll take the right side,” I whispered to Lew. He nodded and
immediately
moved to my left. He had his .38 out and ready. I unsnapped the holster on my .45, hoping I didn’t have to draw it quickly. The pain in my shoulder had retreated to a dull throb, but my shoulder was still stiff.

I sensed we were not alone as soon as I entered the
chapel’s
nave.
Mingled with
the loud
patter
of rain on the stone floor
and between peels of thunder
,
a
scraping sound
came
from behind the altar. I pointed toward it and Lew nodded.
Quietly, we moved down opposite sides of the ch
apel
, using the columns as cover. Remembering our killer’s propensity for heights, I scanned the roof as well as the
rest of the
room but saw nothing.
Between flashes of lightning, t
he room was pitch black.
Halfway down the nave with no repeat of the sound
I was beginning to think
the noise had been in my imagination
.

“Help me,” a
weak
feminine voice called out
from
behind
the altar.


My God,” Lew
whispered
. “She’s alive.

He hesitated
,
glanced
over
at me, and
then headed directly for the altar
in a
mad
rush
. I motion
ed
for
him to wait, but he
waved me off. I broke cover a
n
d followed
to back him up
.
As I hugged the wall,
I
saw
movement be
hind
the altar, a girl lying on the ground.
I knew it was Sasha Sattersby.
I wondered why our killer would change his M.O.
,
especially to bring her
back
to the church
and keep her alive all day
.
It made no sense.
Suddenly,
t
he hairs on the back of my neck began to tingle. I smelled
a trap
.
Lew
had stopped
when he saw
Sattersby
. I
looked at the ceiling and
noticed
a shadow
y
movement
.
I pulled out my weapon and aimed.

BOOK: Blood Lust: A Supernatural Horror
3.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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