Page 17 of Insatiable

Brian, seeing his chance, tried to back away. His body shook violently, his breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. But the Creeper wasn’t done. Not yet. He turned back to Brian, his claws flexing, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring the moment.

The satisfaction I had felt earlier dissolved into something colder, darker. The Creeper took pleasure in torturing him, dragging it out like a game. For a moment, I just stared, frozen, the twisted scene unfolding like a nightmare. But then it became too much. I turned and ran. The way the Creeper’s eyes followed me, as though he could sense my fear, terrified me to the core.

Brian let out a sob. “Please... no. Please!” His voice was thin, broken.

But the Creeper didn’t listen. He grabbed Brian by the throat again, lifting him effortlessly, like he weighed no more than a ragdoll. I watched, helpless, as the creature toyed with him, dragging his claws across Brian’s chest, slicing through flesh with sickening ease.

Blood sprayed the walls, turning the narrow hallway into a slaughterhouse.

Brian’s screams were like nothing I had ever heard before—raw, piercing, filled with the kind of agony that tears the soul apart. The Creeper moved with a slow, methodical precision, tearing into Brian bit by bit. He enjoyed it, taking his time. The sound—the wet, horrifying sound of flesh being torn from bone—echoed around me. Brian’s cries for mercy turned into wet, gurgling sounds as his body went limp.

The Creeper didn’t stop until there was nothing left to scream for.

I felt bile rise in my throat, my stomach twisting violently. I had to get out of there—now. I stumbled backward, my legs shaking so badly I thought they might give out. Every inch of me was soaked in terror.

I couldn’t think about what I had just seen; I couldn’t let it sink in.

As I climbed the stairs, step by trembling step, the house seemed to close in on me, the shadows stretching and twisting, creeping closer, like they could sense the terror clinging to me. Brian’s screams still echoed in my ears, each one tearing at my sanity. The brutal image of Alex, lifeless and broken, burned into my mind, leaving me aching inside. But I didn’t look back.

I couldn’t.

Because I knew—deep inside me—that the Creeper wasn’t finished yet.

He was coming for me next.

I stumbled into the nearest bedroom, hands shaking as I crawled under the bed. Darkness closed in, thick and suffocating, with the smell of mildew filling my lungs. I curled up, breaths shallow, heart pounding so loud I thought it would give me away.

Chapter Eleven

I stayed curled under the bed, too tired to move. My body shook with each breath, and the damp smell of mildew clung to everything. My muscles ached, but I couldn’t care. Fear and exhaustion swirled together, and as my eyes started to close, I finally gave in to the pull of sleep.

Time slipped away. I didn’t know how long I slept, but something woke me—a presence, not a sound. A weight, a warmth, pressed against me.

Someone was next to me.

I felt my body go rigid, every muscle tightening as I sensed the shaking figure next to me. My breath hitched in my throat, my heart pounding as I turned slowly, fear creeping in like a chill.

Maya.

Her face was pale, smeared with blood, her clothes torn and hanging off her in shreds. She shook uncontrollably, her eyes wild with terror. She looked at me, lips quivering as she whispered, her voice breaking, “It... it killed them. Brian... Alex... I think Katie too. I-I don’t know. I just ran. I just... ran.”

Her words were like ice in my veins. The memory of her pushing me out of the room flashed in my mind—how she left me to face him alone. Maya had always looked out for herself,always made sure she came out unscathed, no matter who she abandoned.. She left them behind, just like she left me.

Her eyes darted toward the door, fear radiating off her like a suffocating fog. She was trembling so violently I could feel it, her body shaking as she tried to press closer, desperate for safety she didn’t deserve.

Then came the slow, deliberate flapping of wings.

Maya stiffened beside me, her breath quickening as the Creeper drew near. Her eyes widened, tears brimming as she realized what was coming. The wings beat with a slow, steady rhythm, the sound filling the room like a heartbeat. For the first time, I saw true terror in her eyes—not the calculating Maya I knew. This was someone stripped bare, broken, afraid.

And for the first time, I felt a dark satisfaction rise inside me.

The door creaked open, and he slid in, his pale body moving with slow, deliberate grace. The room seemed to shrink , the air thickening as he approached. His dark, leathery wings folded in, and his black eyes gleamed as he scanned the room.

Maya’s breath hitched beside me, her panic spiking. But I didn’t move.

I didn’t warn her. I didn’t try to stop him.

It was her turn.

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