Page 40 of All Hallows Game

My next step sent a flash of pain up my leg and I hit the ground hard, the shattering pain in my chest flaring until I moaned, clutching my chest. Oh, god. It felt like a heart attack, or what I’d always panicked a heart attack would feel like, but I swore the shards of pain spread throughout the rest of my chest too, reaching further with every moment I knelt here. It speared into my soul like the curse had, and I could barely function at the thought that this was a side-effect of Nightmare cursing me to be the bride of Death.

A snap went through my soul like a whip crack, like glass shattering or rock cleaving down the middle, and for a moment a cry filled my ears. Misery’s cry.

Instinct and protective rage got me off the ground, my ankle hot and throbbing but holding—for now. I shook my head to get the harrowing sound of Miz’s scream from my skull, and froze, my breath crystallising in my lungs, when I realised someone was screaming. Not the florist—the butcher whose shop sat beside the post office was screaming, her face pale and horrified as her stocky husband pulled her out of the street, desperately seeking the safety of their shop.

She was screaming because—because the florist lay on the cobbled street, her arms flung out on either side of her like she was searching for a weapon, for anything to save her life. And crouched over her like a thing of nightmares, the animal blotted out the sight of her body like a shadow repelling light. There was no mistaking the jerking movement of its head as it tore ligaments and muscle, no mistaking the wet crunch as it… as it ate her.

I retreated until my back slammed into a wooden telephone pole, my breathing racing out of control. What the hell was I doing racing after a deadly animal that could and would rip me apart and scoop out my insides like the gooey centre of a cinnamon roll?

Shadows and movement made me flinch, my head knocking into the pole, and a shiver doused me in ice as crows fluttered onto the roofs of Ford End’s high street, watching the carnage. I needed to call the police, needed to call for help, needed an ambulance, but this was Ford and everything took too long and the florist was already ripped open and—

“Death,” I whispered, shaking hard as I stared at the creature hunched over the pretty florist. The dead florist. The crows ruffled their feathers as they settled down to oversee her murder, like reapers come to collect her soul.

My head was too muddied to realise I could call his name and he’d come for me. All I knew was everything inside me hurt, a woman had been murdered and eaten, and I needed him. I needed to run, to get to his domain where I’d be safe.

I stumbled around the telephone pole towards the wall, my heart beating faster, the pain beginning to wane. Whatever Nightmare had done to me, that slicing pain through my chest—was it over? If the pain was fading, that was good, right? Maybe it wasn’t a side effect of the curse. Maybe I was fine.

I retreated another step—and froze when the creature’s dark head snapped up. I couldn’t see its eyes but I knew without a doubt its sights had set on me.

Don’t move, don’t move, I chanted to myself even if the compulsion to run choked off my air. Warning trickled down my spine as the creature rose from the mutilated mess it had made of the florist whose name I’d never learned, and the bottom dropped out of my stomach when it lurched a step closer.

Nope. Fuck that.

I spun on my one good ankle and sprinted for the wall behind me, clambering over it so awkwardly that stones slammed into my stomach and knocked the air from my lungs. I wheezed as I dug my fingernails into the mortar between chunks of stone and hauled myself over.

I caught myself on hands and knees in the grass, and jumped back to my feet, biting back a whimper when my tender ankle flared. At least the crippling pain had left my chest; at least it didn’t threaten to send me back to the ground as I ran as fast as my body could.

A loud flutter of wings followed me, but I didn’t look over my shoulder to see why the crows were chasing me. To intervene, because Nightmare couldn’t bear to lose her favourite leverage and weapon? Or to watch my murder the way they’d watched Caroline’s and the florist’s? The cold trickle down my spine spread to my whole body, until I felt encased in ice. The rough, loud panting of an animal met my ears, closer than I’d expected.

Oh god, I was going to be mauled to death.

I could see Byron was my first thought.

But Virgil needs me was my second.

And I don’t want to leave Mum, Dad, Tannie, Honey and my—my gods. Were they mine? The lines between curse and reality had blurred and I didn’t know what we were, but I had hope for our relationship for the first time in weeks, and I didn’t want to give that up either.

So I ran as fast as I physically could, whipping my arms on either side of myself, reaching for the mental image of the gothic castle with its many spires, towers, and bridges.

Please, I begged, thinking of all the times I’d spent there. But the creature’s rough panting was so loud it was distracting me, and the crunch of rapid paws trampling the grass made it impossible to focus.

My shoes slipped, but I flung out my arms, dug in my other shoe, and refused to fall. A scream burned up my throat and exploded from my mouth, the pain in my ankle bringing tears to my eyes. But if I fell, I was dead.

The creature never growled or roared, but the heavy breathing was almost worse. It raised all the hairs on the back of my neck and made my knees like jelly. I couldn’t look back, but the urge grew so strong I wanted to scream again.

“Take me to Death’s domain,” I gasped, fighting to hold on to the image of the dark corridors, the warmth of the fireplace, the safety of being wrapped in the arms of the men I loved.

What if I never got to tell them I loved them?

Jaws snapped behind me and I shrieked, sheer terror giving me a burst of speed. Don’t fall, don’t you dare fall.

I dove into my memories, fighting to block out the stench of the beast’s breath, the heat of it on my back. I remembered the bedroom Death put me and Miz in, where Miz melted my brain with his cock and magic wand. I latched onto the details of the room—the plush bed, the expensive sheets, the four poster bed frame and the rich colours on the walls.

The beast’s jaws snapped again, so close that teeth snagged the back of my coat, shredding the fabric. Oh god, oh god—

The fetid smell of the creature’s breath fell away, replaced by dust and paper and honey, and a sob burst from me when I stumbled from grass to tarmac, the moors spreading out on either side of me. And inches away, tall iron gates towered above me, inviting and foreboding in equal measure.

They’d kept out Nightmare; they had to keep out this monster, too.

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