The Mysterious Lost Child (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 2) by Sarah Noffke & Michael Anderle

Author:Sarah Noffke & Michael Anderle [Noffke, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2021-04-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Throwing up her hand, Paris projected a portal, hoping that it opened in the distance, meaning that she was close to the half-mile mark. The good news was that it did. The bad news was that it was still twenty yards away.

The worse news was that the train noise overhead had returned, and it was deafening now. The roar was so loud it made Paris’ teeth chatter, and her eyes water like it was taking over her body from the inside out.

Her feet moved fast on the pavement, but she didn’t think it was quick enough. She felt like the wind had already caught her in a net and was about to grab her.

Everything was moving by her so fast on the sidewalk that it all looked like a blur. Which was weird when Paris could have sworn that she saw a black and white cat simply sitting on the curb, looking at her nonchalantly as she passed in a mad rush to save her life.

She would have dismissed the strange animal precariously positioned in a weird place, but it seemed to give her a look of reassurance. That’s when she realized that she was losing her mind.

The portal was only ten yards away. So close—and still so far away as the roar of the train-like monster bore down on her. The wind overhead started to spiral like a helicopter’s rotor wash, sending her hair every which way. She felt something resembling arms wrap around her.

Then the voice seemed to speak from inside her.

“Finally,” it whispered darkly, a ravenous yearning in its essence.

Paris pushed forward harder but instantly felt something tug her backward. The sensation was like hands grabbing her by the shoulders, holding her in place. Her feet moved, but she remained in the same position as if she was on a treadmill—like she was in a bad dream. The harder she pushed, the more she ran, the more she stayed in the same place.

Paris screamed in frustration and fear, wishing she’d made a different decision. Wishing she knew what had hold of her. That’s when she decided to face the nightmare holding her in place and turned to look at the monster. It was definitely a monster, but unlike anything she’d ever seen.

What held her didn’t have hands or a body or anything else human as far as she could tell. It was simply a cloud of black. Despite it looking undefinable, what it made her feel wasn’t—dread. Never before had Paris felt more despondent than she did at that moment. Wars waged in her. Sadness ran rampant. Her spirits were buried in the true gloom of a hell that she never knew and realized was the reality of the world around her. Paris suddenly felt she’d never be the same. That the world as she knew it was over. That every day would be torture if the sun ever rose again.

The black monster opened its mouth of smoke and torture—or that was what it seemed. Its tendrils wrapped around her arms and pulled her back, not just holding her in place.

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