Page 70 of Unbinding the Demon
“Come on, let’s get out of here,”Ashton whispered right into my ear as he released his hand from my mouth. He grabbed my hand and we, silent as the dead, got the flip out of there.
As we swiftly maneuvered back to the road, I kept slowing us down by scanning the woods and glancing over my shoulder like a paranoid chicken. Ashton held my hand tightly, but eventually just said,“fuck it,”and began carrying me. The trees were suffocating, and I just wanted to be out of that accursed forest fast. I let out a breath of relief once the headlights came into view. All three of us jumped into the car in a hurry, and that’s when the full-blown panic crashed over me.
“What the actual fuck did we just see!?”I yelled in a fit of hysteria while failing to shake Ashton’s large, sturdy arm.
“Well, I think we just found the heartless killer’s killing spot. However, I didn’t think there would be so many people involved.” He seemed like he was trying to hold back a smile as he calmly started to drive.
“Yeah, no kidding! But that was more than just your average, every day, run-of-the-fucking-mill ritual murder! What were those black smoky tentacle things!? It looked straight out of some sort of black magic, voodoo fantasy movie! That was some serious fucking Voldemort shit going on back there!” I waved my hands in the air like a crazed lunatic.
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “That was black magic. A very dark and corrupted form of it.” His voice was soft, and he kept his eyes on the road.
“But, magic isn’t even supposed to be real?” I shook my head in bewilderment.
“Then how do you explain what we just saw?”
“I—I don’t know. I really just don’t know.” I truly was baffled by the whole thing. “Besides, what makes you an expert in black magic?”
He grabbed my hand and gently squeezed. “I think we should wait until tomorrow to have our talk, since you’re already so upset.” His lips pressed against my knuckles, and I gave him a small smile. I noticed his failure to answer my question, but chose not to press it.
“Okay,” I said in a soft voice. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as tears brimmed in my eyes.
Ashton glanced at me with concern. “Shh, everything is going to be okay,” he reassured me with a loving smile.
“I just wish there had been a way for us to save him, that guy on the altar. What an awful fate to have your heart ripped out and eaten like that.” I took a shaky breath. “Don’t you think we should tell the police?”
“No, I don’t think we should do that. I can guarantee some of those people are officers themselves,” he said, gently squeezing my trembling hand again to provide comfort.
I gazed out the window as we continued to drive home. I felt hollow and sick from having just seen both that cult woman and that man violently die. Ashton was right, though. There was no way to know who exactly those cult sickos were. That man would probably never get the justice he deserved. He was doomed to be yet another heartless corpse to turn up in the woods, and I was powerless to change that.
29. Morning Mysteries
The musical chirps of happy little birds faintly sounded through the room as they greeted the rising sun with their morning songs. I woke up an hour earlier than usual, with a slight burn in the back of my throat from all my dry, arduous swallowing. I wanted to stay asleep, but dehydration prevented me from doing so. All the crying I’d done the night before after seeing that horrifically brutal ritual murder seemed to have dried me out like a raisin. So, I pried my tired eyes open and sighed with reluctance.
The bedroom was still dark, with the slightest hint of blue, early morning light illuminating my surroundings. Ashton was sleeping beside me like a tranquil giant. His large, heavy arms were wrapped around my much smaller body, keeping me pressed firmly against him. One of his hands rested on the back of my head with his fingers entangled in my long hair, and the other was naughtily holding onto my butt. Quietly giggling at his hand placement, I softly kissed just beneath his collarbone. I took a deep breath, inhaling his wonderful fire and spice scent, then carefully tried to sneak away from his warm, slumbering embrace.
After a good ten minutes of gently struggling and squirming, I was finally free and slipped out from beneath the coverlet. My feet tiptoed across the cold floor over to my dresser, being extra cautious to avoid stepping on any of the notoriously creaky boards. I slipped on a loose black sweater dress and a pair of fluffy light pink socks, then shut the dresser drawer with a soft click. I peeked over my shoulder at Ashton to make sure I hadn’t woken him up, and the living daylights were scared right out of me!
Sweet lemony leprechauns! What the living fuck!... Oh?
For a split second, it looked as though his eyes were glowing like two golden embers. They gazed over at me possessively with a downright demonic gleam. However, the second I whipped around to face him, I found him sleeping peacefully with closed eyes. I took a deep, shaky breath to quiet my paranoid imagination and calm my nerves. I remained facing him as I awkwardly slid sideways across the room as if I were a crab ice-skating along the floor, using my slippery socks to slink out the door.
The weeping crystal chandelier glittered in the dim morning glow as I pranced down the stairs with soft steps. I peeked into the living room and saw little Pepper Paws nestled against Belzar’s much larger body by the fireplace. I smiled, happy that it didn’t take them too long to become friends. Especially since William had taken Esquire back to Oliver’s house with him.
I strolled into the kitchen and poured myself a much-needed glass of water. With my back against the new chrome refrigerator, I guzzled down my drink like I’d been stranded in the Sahara Desert for a month. My mind wandered to the strange and macabre events of last night. Not just to the nightmarish cult ceremony, but also to the way Ashton had ruthlessly killed that woman without a second thought. I then wondered how he had heard all that chanting from where we had dumped her body. And what was up with that strange language he was whispering to Belzar in?
Why was he even whispering to Belzar in the first place? He’s a freaking wolf who can’t even understand what we’re saying?
I sighed and shook my head, then placed my glass on the counter, saving it for later. As I moseyed out of the kitchen, I noticed we had tracked a lot of dirt into the foyer from our boots last night. My brows furrowed as I thought about how pointless it would be to go back to bed at this hour. I had my art class this morning anyway, and I also didn’t want to wake Ashton up. So, I decided to make good use of my extra time and do some sweeping instead.
I frowned as I opened the cleaning closet and saw that the broom that normally lived in there was nowhere to be found. I then searched a few more places throughout the large house with no such luck, either. The only thing I managed to find was that stupid, unsettling feeling that I’d, unfortunately, grown used to. At this point, I barely even acknowledged it.“Where is that goddamn broom?”I grumbled to myself in frustration just as the old wooden door leading under the stairwell caught my eye.
Assuming it was another closet, I creaked open the door, revealing an abyss of darkness. The smell of dirt and stone hit my nose, and I realized it led to the basement. Without any hesitation, I flicked on the light and started descending the creaky, cobweb-filled stairs to continue my search.
The musty, damp basement looked pretty average for an older house. The dingy lighting flickered. Dirt covered the cracked stone floor and walls. Dusty cobwebs hid in almost every crevice. The place was filled with lots of random old junk and had an overall dilapidated appearance. Dirt caked onto the bottom of my socks, while I aimlessly wandered around searching for that lousy broom. After about a minute, I let out a small yelp as I tripped over some worthless thingamabob. My hands latched onto an antique table to prevent myself from landing on my face and dying in this godforsaken basement.
What did I expect? Of course, my clumsy ass wouldn’t be able to safely navigate this sea of filthy junk!
As I straightened myself out, thankful no one had witnessed that little episode, my eyes landed on what looked like a madman’s nonsensical scribblings. There was a mess of papers strewn all willy-nilly over the table, all of which screamed,“there’s something kind of creepy going on here.” Drawn expertly on them were maps of the town with certain houses circled in red. Bizarre, unsettling symbols and writing in a language I had never seen before covered the maps and other random pieces of paper. I picked one up and inspected it with a look of confusion.
