Page 58 of The Bonds of Indigo

Instead, a guttural, demonic voice tears through the air causing me to turn and sprint into the store.

“Her Amarah. I have found you.”

Chapter 16

Ijust wish he didn’t get under my skin so much. I also wish Atlas wasn’t so godsdamn in my face all the time. He’s catching me in my usage of words, and I’ve got to be more careful. I’d fully rather have them both thinking I’m a monster than try to unravel who I am. It’s safer for not only them, but myself, if we just get through this without becoming more than acquaintances.

To just know each other by name, and that’s it. A fleeting memory of one another once this is all over. That’s all I want, and having that Mundane prying is going to cause problems.

Turning on the sink, I let the cold water run in hopes it will warm over my hands. This bathroom looks like a walking disease. While I would flush any infection out, it smells foul, and I’d rather not risk feeling sick.

Seeing steam finally billow up from the water, I squirt some soap into my palm and start lathering it through my fingers. A soft squeal echoes in the relatively quiet bathroom, as if someone was opening one of the stall doors. The only sound other than that is the water I’m shoving my hands under.

The lights had been flickering when I walked in, but one of the two elongated fluorescent fixtures buzzes and then shuts off suddenly. I rub my hands together and look up at the remaining one—it’s filled with dead flies and, I think, moths—and when it flickers, I quickly divert my gaze back down.

A soft thump has me jerking my head toward the door. This is a unisex bathroom, which already made me uncomfortable, but I asked the lady at the front to let me lock it while I went. She granted that, so I’m not entirely sure why I’m nervous someone is about to walk in on me.

My heart rate spikes slightly as a sudden presence feels like it’s hovering over my shoulder. A dark, grungy sensation crawls across my neck, and I shiver with how intense it is.

I release an unsteady breath and quickly swing around, my fist balled with the intent to knock out whatever it is behind me.

Nothing.

Leaning toward the sink, I fumble for the faucet. Something is here, and while I can’t see it, I’m no fool. This feeling is dark, and my throat feels like it’s being squeezed.

Finding the slick metal under my fingers, I turn the water off.

Then a chill runs across my skin, and sharp needles prick along my forearm. A grip clamps onto me, wrenching me around, and before I can brace myself I’m yanked so hard my face crashes into the mirror, shattering the glass instantly.

Pain spreads across my forehead and cheeks as blood pools down straight into my eyes. I go to scream, but nothing comes out—only silence. My heart-wrenching cry escaping as nothing more than a breath of air.

Black smoke creeps out from the concrete behind the broken mirror, and as the black hand with long claws holds tightly to my wrist, another one peels forward toward me. My knees crumble, but before my legs can give out, the creature grabs hold of me, refusing to let me fall.

The familiar monster is a haunting fusion of beast and shadow; its form shrouded in dripping black tendrils that merge with the black smoke billowing around it. Its face—an expressionless, pale deer skull with hollow eyes yet filled with a menacing presence—creeps closer toward me. Jagged antlers twist upward like branches scraping the walls as it emerges from the abyss of my nightmare.

A Grimhorn. A servant to Belial himself.

Its figure is draped in a tattered decaying robe and reeks of death and rotten earth. Wisps of mist drift from it as it rises to its full height over me, and as it lifts, so do I. I’m held up by just my arm, kept at eye level with the creature from the Beyond.

Its free hand moves toward my face, the ice-cold black skin engulfing my entire head as I try to jerk away. The touch trails down to my chest and I whimper out, “L-Leave me alone…”

A sharp pain shatters my plea. I drop my head in horror to see the creature has embedded its entire hand into my chest, fingers wrapped around my heart—and squeezes.

“Her Amarah. I have found you.”

It tightens its grip on my wrist, the bite of its nails slicing into my skin and drawing blood. I don’t feel the pain it should cause, because it’s quite literally holding my life in its grasp.

“N-No…”

“Foolish girl, you thought you could hide forever?”

“How…”

Its mouth opens, and I taste the vile smell of death on its breath, the endless teeth stretching straight down through its throat.

I close my eyes, ready to be consumed by this creature.

“Fight, Amarah darling. Fight!”