The house seemed empty as they climbed from the basement. Steeped in silence and tension many would have been fooled into thinking it was vacant. Charlotte however, could sense those hiding beneath the darkness and the quiet. They were waiting for an ambush or a battle. They hoped to ensnare them or just hoped to catch them unawares, but it was a foolish thought.
Charlotte could sense the enemy around the corner and Wallace nodded in a manner that confirmed her thoughts.
"They know we're here," she whispered. "They aren't planning any clever tricks. They just want a bloodbath".
"Let's give it to them then," Ian hissed excitedly. Charlotte took a steady breath and readjusted the gun in her hand. Her alteration was roaming, searching for James, for Ethan, for Cary or Annakiya. She ignored those waiting inside and instead hoped to find a way to locate her missing friends or at least the traitor among them. It didn't matter about sneaking around the corner. The enemy knew they were here and unless she got them out of the way she knew she would never reach James or The Mimic. It was with a wave of nausea that she remembered this was about more than just James. There was another villain, a villain who had started all this and she had to destroy him too.
With a sudden jerk, Ian catapulted himself and Charlotte around the corner, the others moving as fast as possible behind them. Charlotte ignored the wooziness that threatened to overwhelm her at the movement and held her gun aloft. She scanned the room for James, fearing she had missed him, seeing as she was not entirely sure of the person she was looking for anymore. She only found strangers. To her surprise there was no sudden rush of movement in the room at their arrival. Instead the enemy seemed hardly willing to notice the five young intruders at all.
The hall's blood red walls swam in flickering candlelight. Shadows and enemies stalked among the candelabras, about the piano and the oversized vases. They were waiting for them. For her. That much she could tell and, for a moment, this allowed her anger to dissipate and be replaced with cold, calculated excitement. With bloodlust.
Her alteration flickered and soared as she lifted her gun, ready for an attack. The others moved too, each rushing forward ready to engage in battle. One of the shadows turned towards her and stepped into the dancing light. A hideous, menacing smile stretched too far across his pasty, pale face. Pointed teeth, stained red, glistened in the candlelight. Despite the disquiet caused by his grin, Charlotte smiled and lifted her gun, ready to sink a bullet into his flesh.
Yet just as her finger inched to the trigger, he too moved towards his own attack. His torso twisted sharply and began to rise higher in the air. His legs changed and lost their form only to become twisting, writhing tentacles that slithered across the floor towards her.
Charlotte's stomach clenched in disgust as they moved came at her. With an unsteady fright, she stumbled backwards as one snaked around her ankle. It dragged at her, pulling her of balance and ripping her feet from under her. She twisted as she fell, catching the impact on her side. The gun snapped from her fingers as the wind was knocked from her lungs. With all her strength she fought to reach the gun, but the altered soldier's grip was unrelenting and he began to drag her back towards him. She clawed at the ground and tried to halt her progress.
Desperate for help she glanced around. She could see the others, her friends and enemies, engaging with others in the shadows and twisted candlelight. They couldn't help her. They were caught in their own battles, unaware of her plight.
The tentacles continued to wind up her legs. They pinched around her knees and thighs. Throbbing and covered in a slimy ooze, her legs were constricted and of little use to her. The writhing, black limbs entwined around her waist and dragged her closer and closer to her attacker. She grasped and tugged at these binds in an effort to loosen his grip on her. She pinched and clawed, but her efforts seemed to only cement his strength.
YOU ARE READING
Feared
Science Fiction'Play the game, she thought, remembering the only three words that had helped her to survive at Kingston. Only back then she had known the game, she had known what they wanted her to be, what they had wanted her to do - this man was different. She d...
