Page 7 of Marked By the Dark Lord
An image of Victor, the baker, came to mind unbidden. Then Margo. Nicole. Courtney. And finally, last of all, their ringleader, the one who’d instigated most of my torment since we were young schoolgirls, Sarabeth.
Whatever I was in contact with, it chuckled, the sound a mixture of excitement and promise. They would suffer tonight. All of them. They would suffer my punishments. The things I’d thought about in the back of my mind, that part where humans accepted just how evil they were while knowing they could never actually commit such heinous acts.
Most couldn’t, at least.
Whatever I was unleashing, it took those despicable acts of revenge and, with a shriek of excitement, tore itselffreefrom the book as I shouted the final word. It hovered in front of me, a ball of swirling, sickening red energy. I stared, and for just a moment, I saw a mysterious face in its depths. It was different from the first image, and it was smiling, revealing a slightly lopsided grin.
Then the thing shot out of my so-called home. Abruptly freed of the book’s trance, I turned and poked my head past the ratty sheet just in time to see the mass of red enter the bakery.
A second later, the noises began. Lily’s high-pitched shriek and then a deeper, more masculine shout that quickly became a terrified scream.
I flung myself back behind the sheet, pulling my knees to my chest in terror as the screams continued. Rocking back and forth, I looked down at the book. It was dull now. Empty. Yet I still felt a pull to it. Like I couldn’t quite let it go.
As I reached for it, the ends snapped upright to close, and the latch locked.
“What have I done?”
The first words in English I’d uttered since opening the book seemed to shake me from my catharsis. I grabbed the sheet and yanked it down to wrap the book so as not to touch the leather exterior. I had no idea if it would make a difference or not, but it seemed prudent.
Then I ditched my hovel and ran for the bakery's back door. The screams were ongoing, though only from Victor’s throat. More panicked than terrified, they grew in volume as I flung the door open. Where was Lily? She’d only ever been nice to me. I didn’t want to hurt her!
Just as I entered the bakery, the screams stopped.
I stared in shock. Standing in the middle of the bakery was a hovering red body of sorts. It lacked legs, and the arms moved in and out of existence, fading and returning in a wild pattern. I didn’t recognize the face, it was different than the one I’d seen in my mind.
The kitchen was a baking disaster. Flour coated every surface, and some sort of liquid batter dripped from the counter. Allmanner of cooking implements, from rolling pins to cookie cutters, icing tubes, mixers, and more, were scattered around as well.
“You!” I shouted. “Stop!”
It whirled on me with a hiss. “You wanted this!” it cackled.
“Wantedwhat?”
The thing cackled and swiftly moved to one side, where it yanked open an oven that had been set to max.
I stared, horrified, as the scent of burning flesh filled the room. Inside the oven, cooked to golden-brown perfection, was Victor. He’d been … baked.
“What have you done?” I gasped.
“You wanted this. You dreamed of it. Now you get it. Amateur. When I’m done, I will come for you. Then I will be free!”
Then it was gone, diving straight through a wall. The lights went out at the same time.
I wanted that? I’d dreamed of it in the deepest, darkest corner of my mind, where revenge was sweet, but I’d never trulywantedit. It was just a dream to keep me warm on a cold night. Now it was coming true.
I tried not to shiver at its final statement. That it was coming for me when it was done.
It was going after Sarabeth and the others. It had to be.
Alone in the dark, clutching the book to my chest, I nearly wept.
Except I wasn’t alone.
The scuffle of a shoe on the concrete floor alerted me to the fact that someone else was still in there with me. I looked up, afraid it was the red thing coming back to finish me off.
Between two ovens, I saw a terrified little face.
Lily.
