Sinister Entity (38 page)

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Authors: Hunter Shea

Tags: #Horror

BOOK: Sinister Entity
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“It’s gone,” Selena said. She had become so familiar now with the EB that she could sense its coming and going as easily as watching a living person walk in and out of a room.
 

Eddie wanted to connect with Jessica, but it was impossible to do so without breaking down the cocoon. Fatigue, the kind that would take him a week in a warm bed to recover from, had settled in.
 

He heard Greg say, “Just stay put, honey. Eddie will tell us when it’s clear.”

I hope your confidence is justified,
he thought.
 

His shoulders sagged and his stomach roiled when he saw that the light had dulled. There was no telling how much longer he could keep it up. Seconds? Minutes? Not much longer than that.
 

It’s all you, Jess. It’s all you.
 

 

 

The laughter built and built until it became a steady cackle that would have raised the hairs on Jessica’s head if she hadn’t been wrapped in a buzzing, undulating cloak of flies. No matter what she did, no matter how many she killed, there seemed to be an endless supply of others to take their place.
 

Knowing that just seconds earlier they had been resting on the flesh of the decayed corpse worked her mind into a furious panic.
 

She managed to get to the bathroom and turned on a faucet with a shaky, desperate hand. Splashing cold water on her face drove away some of them, but they reclaimed their purchase once the water sluiced off.
 

They were biting her, digging into every crevice they could find, feasting on her like a thousand vampires. Her skin felt as if it were on fire and she was so dizzy, it was hard to stand, much less think straight.
 

Her only thought was to get away from the flies. There were so many crawling over her eyes that she couldn’t see and was afraid of breaking her neck falling down the stairs.
 

Splashing more water on her face so she could at least find the stairs, she recoiled when the bathroom door slammed shut.
 

Oh God, no!
 

The bathroom was pitch-black. She fumbled in her pants pockets for the lighter she kept as a backup in case her penlight batteries went out.
 

When her fingers found the smooth, plastic lighter, the answer to her dilemma came to her fully formed, as if it had been secretly stored in the lighter, waiting like a genie in a bottle for someone to rub it and release their reward.
 

Smoke.

Flies, like bees, hated smoke.
 

She fumbled forward and grabbed a dry, matted towel off the wall rack. The flies were back on her face, but she didn’t need to see to push the small metal wheel on the lighter. She heard it
whoosh
to life and moved the towel close to where she imagined the flame to be.
 

When she smelled the sharp tang of burning cloth, she had to keep from screaming for joy and letting more flies into her mouth.
 

The towel went up fast, and the smoke built up even faster in the enclosed room. She could see again, and grabbed another towel to add to the fire. She swatted the flies in the air with the flaming towels, lighting their little bodies as they sought to escape. As the smoke and flames intensified, she dropped the towels, coughing hard, and had enough presence of mind to bend low and reach for the door handle.

At first, it wouldn’t budge.
 

“Not again, mother fucker!” she shouted, tugging on the door with all of her strength.
 

The door wouldn’t budge. She could hear the continuous laughter outside.
 

Fool me once,
she thought with a sneer.
 

After pulling the bath mat from the floor, she threw it in the tub and ran cold water over it. While it was soaking, she kicked one of the burning towels near the bottom of the door. It took seconds for the dry tinder of the door to ignite.
 

As the fire grew, she dropped the soaked bath mat over her head and waited, her lungs spasming from both the smoke and the flies that had descended within her and died.
 

She cloaked herself in the soaked bath mat. Once the door was engulfed in flames, the stench of burning paint and varnish riding hard, she grabbed the metal waste pail by the sink, held it in front of her and charged at the door. The fire-stressed wood gave way and she crashed through it and into the opposite wall in the hallway.
 

This made the laughter stop. Smoke poured out of the bathroom and into the room with the corpse. The flies feared the smoke more than the commands of the EB and fled to other parts of the house. Jessica dropped the wet bath mat onto the floor.
 

“Nice try,” she said. Every inch of her skin itched and the room began to spin. She shook her head and retrieved her penlight.
 

“Time to find out who you are and send you to the hell I know will be happy to have you.”

The dresser was bare. A single folded piece of paper rested on it. She opened it, scanned the first few sentences, then stuffed it in her back pocket.
 

She needed his wallet. If it wasn’t on the dresser, it was most likely in one other place.
 

His back pocket.
 

Her revulsion pushed away for the moment, she stood before the corpse. He had used a handgun to end his life, placing it in his mouth and blowing a small hole into the top of his head, shattering his left eye in the process. Part of his skull and brain matter was encrusted on the wall behind him. The gun lay on the floor. What was left of his skin was nothing more than a gelatinous ruin. Maggots squirmed in the cavities of his mouth, nose and eyes, spilled out of his ears.
 

Not allowing herself time to consider what she had to do, she grabbed the corpse by the collar and threw it off the chair, onto the floor. It hit with a dull, wet smack.
 

A small framed picture flew from the wall, just missing her head. It was a feeble attempt at best, and only gave her strength.
 

She reached into his back pocket, felt the flesh beneath the fabric burst, and wrapped her fingers around his wallet.
 

“You’re toast.”

Loose change, a tie tack, pencils and random papers flew through the air, converging on her.
 

Jessica flipped the wallet open, ignoring the objects that pelted her like rice on a wedding day. She lifted her light and found his license.
 

After taking a glance at the fire that had now crept into the hallway, she read his name to herself at first, then smiled.
 

“Guess what,
Christopher P. Harlan
? It’s time for you to go! Do you hear me,
Christopher Harlan
? Leave this house, leave this world and never return!”

The EB howled with rage. Jessica could feel it within her bones as much as she could hear it punishing her eardrums.
 

“You’re no longer wanted here, Christopher Harlan. The world is a better place without you. I hope you have to face the souls of all those you tortured, and I hope they have no mercy!”

The EB’s wailing began to diminish, like turning the volume knob down on a stereo. It grew fainter and fainter, until it dissipated into silence.
 

And that was it. The cold in the room was replaced by the heat from the fire. Things stopped flying around the room.
 

Most of all, she sensed the emptiness that told her he was no more. A part of her wished for more dramatic exits, possibly even a glimpse of their world to come, but did it really matter?
 

He was gone. Selena was safe.
 

 

 

Eddie felt a battering ram of rage pummel the circle. His stomach tightened and the bones in his spine cracked from the sudden rush of energy.

It had fled from Jessica.
She must have its name,
he thought. The wretched coward took off before she could work her hoodoo and send it to whatever waited for it on the other side.
 

Rita screamed as the back of her shirt was pulled from her neck. As she raised her hands to pull the collar away from her throat, her body was snatched backward and she tumbled out of the protective ring.
 

“Rita!” Greg shouted.
 

He scrabbled to her side and was lifted a foot into the air, as if he’d been kicked in the midsection. His body tipped the coffee table over.
 

“Mom! Dad!” Selena screamed.
 

Eddie was quick to secure hers and Ricky’s hands.
 

“You can’t let go,” he said.
 

The EB was playing to her weakness. It wanted her out of the safe zone he’d created.
 

Rita scooted across the carpet, brushing something from her pants. Eddie saw phantom finger depressions move up her thigh.
 

I have to help her.
 

No! Concentrate. It wants Selena. Protect the kids.
 

It felt as if every cell in his body was going into shutdown mode. His heart danced an unsteady beat. He was pretty sure his bladder had just let itself go. The muscles in his legs and arms tightened into a painful cramp, then loosened, too weak to hold on. Worse was the pain in his head. It was as if little bombs had been placed throughout his brain and were being detonated one after the other.
 

He had to get the EB out of here, back to Jessica. He could feel that she was still alive, still strong, or at least stronger than he was at the moment.
 

There was only one way to expel it.
 

He had to let it all the way in again.
 

Focusing the light around the kids, he conjured his barn totem. The doors were wide open, inviting. As much as it sickened him, he filled the barn walls with the images of Selena that the EB had forced upon him earlier. Her nude, helpless, broken body was everywhere.
 

It was too much for the EB to resist.
 

Eddie watched the dark mass slink into the barn, huffing like an incensed bull.
 

The light around Selena and Ricky dissipated as he brought all of his power to the center of his mind.
 

The last moments of the EB’s life pulsed within the barn walls. Eddie knew its impotence, its rage against God and the devil and anything else that had a hand in its creation.
 

Eddie felt no pity.
 

“You like what you see?”
he said to the shapeless form.
 

It chortled.
“I knew once you experienced my lust, you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“Yes, she is one sweet piece of meat.”
It pained Eddie to even think it.
“Come over here. I’ve improved upon your fantasy. I think you’ll like it.”

He motioned for the EB to join him in the center of the barn.
 

It crept forward, too riled up by the vivid display of its hunger to resist.
 

That’s a good pedophile,
Eddie thought.
 

The moment it stopped, Eddie threw open the barn’s roof with a wood-rending eruption.
 

A cyclone of white energy whirled beneath the EB’s pulsating form.
 

“What is this?”
it roared.
 

“Your ride home.”

“Noooooooo!”

With an ear-shattering
whoosh
, the light exploded, sending the EB through the open roof and into the darkness. Eddie felt Jessica’s energy, and with everything he had left, pushed the EB straight to her.
 

When the EB broke away, everything went black. He felt his stomach heave, and thought he heard frantic voices around him.
 

He opened his eyes and saw Selena leaning over him. Her arms shook and tears streamed down her cheeks.
 

He wanted to tell her it would be all right. The bad EB was about to have its ass handed to it by the brave, self-destructive girl.
 

Speech was beyond his abilities.
 

The lancing pain in his skull made him wish he were dead.
 

He wouldn’t be so lucky.
 

 

 

The adrenaline drained from Selena’s body as quickly as it came, and her legs threatened to give way. She compelled them to run through the fire, feeling its hot tendrils lick her bitten, defiled flesh. The floor and walls crackled as the flames ate away. Her insides were singed when she breathed, and black spots formed at the corners of her eyes.
 

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