Nyte Terrors by Alex P. Berg

Author:Alex P. Berg [Berg, Alex P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Batdog Press
Published: 2019-11-12T23:00:00+00:00

20

I spun, scanning the room. Darkness surrounded me, but a bit of purple-tinged light crept through the stained glass windows. Shadows lingered in the corners, thick and dark, but I didn’t think anyone could be hiding in them.

“Who’s there?” My voice only shook a little.

“Don’t you recognize me, Lexie?”

The voice was deep, dry as dust, and vaguely familiar. It echoed around the room, but it drew me toward the open doors. Beyond them, the darkness was all consuming, like staring into a moonless night sky from underneath a thousand feet of ocean. Only two points of light flickered within the inky morass. Yellow orbs that sparkled like eyes.

I took a step back, stumbling as my feet caught on the edge of the dais. I fell, landing on my butt a foot shy of the lectern. “Who are you?”

“Lexie. How could you possibly forget me?”

A jagged line appeared in the darkness underneath the eyes. It yawned open and rushed me. Air blasted me into the wall at my back as the mouth turned into a malice-filled sun. The lectern wobbled and shook, and the crucifix clattered to the floor with a sharp crack. The creature of darkness shrieked, just as the face in my dream had, but before the mouth swallowed me, it darted to the side, sweeping around the room with a dry, wracking laugh.

It was a laugh I remembered. I’d heard it once before as it shot into the sky, cackling with glee. “Romanov?”

The creature darted from one corner to another, melding into the pitch black spaces regardless of the size. The entire room pulsed with a dark energy, but the yellow eyes and cruel mouth always remained. They burned with a dangerous fire. “Ivan Romanov is dead, Lexie. Only I remain.”

The creature cackled with glee and rushed me once more, black-outlined teeth appearing amid the gaping yellow maw. The mouth snapped, sending a sharp crack through the chapel, but again it veered off at the last possible second, sending a rush of wind swirling around the room. The doors slammed shut. The lectern toppled and crashed as the rusty laugh raked like claws across the chalkboard of my mind.

My chest rose and fell rapidly, my heart beating hard under my ribs as I stared at the face in the darkness. What was it if not the spirit of Ivan Romanov? Something older, darker, more evil? And more importantly, what did it want with me? Revenge? Why else would it be taunting me, rushing at me over and over only to pull back and smile?

I scrabbled backward on all fours, but one of my hands slipped upon the smooth wood of the crucifix. I glanced at it, suddenly wondering if there was a reason the nightmarish creature hadn’t attacked me yet.

I had to believe. I didn’t have any other choice.

I jammed the spirit trap in my pocket and picked up the crucifix in both hands. I scrambled to my feet, my back against the wall, and held the carving of Jesus on the cross before me.

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