This must be it! The room at the end of this hallway.

Sam had managed to navigate through the building, the sandstorm at the end of the hallway clearly visible now. She had found it.

While out of breath, she thought: He is still alive, I just know it. He fought beasts like this before several times… please Pat, please don’t leave me.

Her legs somehow carried her to the door frame, vision almost zero against the sandy waves in front of her. Gun held up straight, catching a final breath before she would storm inside. She started counting inside of her head, 3… 2… 1...

A deafening sound combined with a loud bang broke her balance. The shock wave pushed her back, making her fly through the air before falling to the ground a few metres from her original location.

She could feel her ears rattling, her head filled with painful noise. Blurry vision, teeth clenched, she got back up, fetching her gun off the cold stone floor. She blinked again as the dust settled. The storm had vanished. Her ears recovered. Silence.

She pushed forward, managed to pass the door frame, her left leg hurting like hell. God fucking damn it. The last bits of dust settled, enabling her to take a look at the room in front of her.

In front of her was something which appeared to be the old living room of the building, the half of the wall and ceiling had been collapsed inwards, now covering the room partly. It was a complete mess. Dust and sand everywhere, spread out across the room like an indoor desert.

In the middle of the room, a small hill of red gory mass was splattered across the floor like butter on toast. Unmoving, silent, ripped out of its life. The walls had been painted red as well, as if someone had slaughtered a dozen of people and painted the walls with their innards.

So this is where the beast brings its victims? But this makes no sense, does it only need the internal organs? Also... the dead bodies never showed any cutting wounds or something comparable. Screw it, I don’t have time for thinking about this right now. Pat probably needs my help.”

“Pat? Where are you? Please tell me you are still alive,” her voice echoed through the halls. The echo was the only answer she received.

Then, a cough was audible close to the collapsed wall. Sam’s pain vanished immediately. She sprinted over to the collapsed mess of stone bricks and other building material, starting to dig through it relentlessly.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Heartbeat fastened, she raised her voice once again: “Pat? Is that you?”

A silent whisper was barely audible through boulders of wall, a voice weak and smoky. Sam’s vision got blurry from the salty water forming on her tear-glands. Another rock got pushed aside, uncovering a face reddened by injury. Oddly, its expression didn’t reflect any pain.

“Hey Sammy, I got that son of a bitch good, didn’t I?” Pat whispered through tight lips. A dry cough followed as some blood dripped down his chin.

“Oh my god… It’s gonna be alright, just stop moving and I wi–”

“Don’t waste the energy kid. My body wouldn’t survive you taking off the weight. It should already be pretty messed up under here.”

Pat’s facial muscles tightened. “I need you to do me a favour.”

Sam wiped the sorrow out of her eyes, shook her head, “No! There must be another way. I can call the other hunters and they will find you. I… I–”

“Sam. I need you to calm down. Do you still have ammo left?”

“…”

“Sam, please.”

“Yea. Two bullets.”

“I want you to end my demise for me.”

“Isn’t there any other way?”

“Sadly, I don’t think so.”

Sam’s grip tightened around her gun, a shaking hand guiding it to the side of the buried man’s face.

Pat took a deep breath, cleared his voice. “Good job, be so nice and give me a second. I have some final words to say.”

And he continued, “If I’m finished, promise me to pull the trigger.”

The female returned his offer with a delayed nod. Tears met dusty concrete. There she was, kneeling next to the buried man, his life in her hands, a slight movement of her finger away from ending the existence of her only friend.

Friend? No, perhaps even family at this point, she thought.

“At the end of the day,” he coughed up some dry blood, “smoking really didn’t get me, huh?” A sorrowful smile formed on his face. “Life needed a little bit more than that to kill me off.”

A glint of hesitation appeared in his voice: “Sammy, I’m glad you were my student. I was a terrible father... and probably a terrible teacher as well... but I’m glad to see you are now ready to walk this journey alone. Teach those motherfuckers what you are made of and get revenge for your family. And once you’re done, please promise me you will life a happy life.”

Sam’s response was shaky, silent: “I will, I promise. I will never forget you. Thank you for giving me hope… and a home.”

“Thank you for giving me a reason to die for.”

A moment of silence.

A gentle nod with eyes closed.

A shaky yet gentle finger pulling the trigger.