Cracked Altar: St. Andrew's (Otherworld Archives) by David Viergutz

Author:David Viergutz [Viergutz, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: David Viergutz
Published: 2021-07-25T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

John’s heart stalled, then leapt into his throat. Catherine gasped, and Colton was frozen. The air grew cold around them. Peering into the dark, he saw it outside the master bedroom, half out of the door, looking their way. It stood at knee height and had a triangular shaped head. It was almost as still as Colton.

John tilted his head to the right to get a better view, then took a half step towards Catherine into the kitchen. She was backed against the counter, all color drained from her face. He did what he could to communicate with her using his eyes, too afraid to speak. He wanted to tell her to look down at her hand. The grip of his silver revolver was by her fingertips.

Pick it up, honey. Please. John thought. He could shoot, and so could she. She shot surprisingly well and wasn’t afraid to handle a gun outside of the range. The thing at the end of the hall held her attention, and all the training he had tried to give her was gone. Now, she was blind and frozen by fear, unable to look down to see the pistol, and unable to turn away.

John took another half step, moving methodically. Colton was right in front of him, and there was a wooden chair as well. If he could get to the chair, it might give him some protection, in case he had to fight it off. All was still, all was quiet, and the creature, what John had decided was a jet-black dog, hadn’t moved either.

Not wanting to give it the upper hand, he leapt, despite every part of him screaming out not to. Grabbing the chair, he pulled Colton up by his shirt and dragged him back towards Catherine, fumbled for the revolver and waited, no longer able to see down the hallway. Together, the family was wedged against the countertop.

Panting, John held his gun up for so long his arm began to ache, but the dog never came. They waited for what felt like an hour. Then there was a light squeak of a cabinet door and a click as Catherine turned on a flashlight.

John reached back and grabbed it, then with newfound courage, inched around the blind corner, light and weapon in hand. Behind him, Catherine and Colton held their breath. The moment came when John would have to step out in the path of the hallway, where he would be forced to see it, and most likely deal with it. I’ll do a quick look, then retreat for more time if I need to. Just a look.

Without any more encouraging thoughts, John bobbed his head sideways, followed quickly by his pistol and the flashlight. His finger tensed on the trigger and pulled on the slack, the hammer creeping back and the cylinder turning. He froze. The dog was gone, and the hallway was empty.

“What the fuck?” He whispered to himself. He moved further down, noticing both the spare bathroom door to his left and Colton’s room to his right were both closed.

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